Dungeons and Distractions
by Mizzy
Summary: “Grab my wrist!” Midnight martial arts, invisible kissing at midnight, and Professor Dumbledore trying to smuggle in illegal immigrants? What’s a boy to do in a mixed-up muddle of a mixed-up world? Harry/Draco Slash.
1. The Love Augurs

Title: Dungeons and Distractions v2.0 

Author: Mizzy 

E-mail: mizzy_2k@yahoo.co.uk 

Rating: PG-13 

Homepage: 

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

Summary: "_Grab my wrist!"_ Midnight martial arts, invisible kissing at midnight, and Professor Dumbledore trying to smuggle in illegal immigrants? What's a boy to do in a mixed-up muddle of a mixed-up world? 

Author's Notes: I got inspired in the middle of a wrist grabbing session with some of my role-playing maties to start this up again. Have altered some small details to make it fit with the OotP canon world, and have corrected my rather drunken overuse of semicolons. Sorry about that, darlings. Read on, read on. I promise-promise-promise to do my best to finish this story.

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Part One - "The Love Augurs"

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Harry sucked in his bottom lip nervously, chewing on it as he padded along the corridor to his next lesson. He couldn't think rationally after what had happened last night. The hysterical part of his mind was blathering at him that _no one _could think properly after something like _that. _Harry supposed blithely that it wasn't exactly his fault.

_Takes two to tango, Potter._

Forcing himself to keep calm, not wanting to go into General Studies with the furious blush he'd borne last night, Harry Potter shook his head in an attempt to dispel his muddled thoughts. Trying to gamely concentrate on where he was going, he only narrowly missed stepping on the disappearing step on the third floor's staircase, like he'd done last night in his flight.

Last night… 

Harry shivered as the memory came back in glorious technicolour with surround sound. The whole situation had been weird in the first place, even after a year of it, not being able to see yourself or anyone else, being attacked by something you couldn't see...

He sighed, a soft breathy rush of air, deciding to place all the blame firmly on who-so-ever it was that had had the dumb idea of it all in the first place. As he continued along the corridors, he reached the ladder leading up to his next lesson and he remembered exactly whose fault it all was. 

Professor Trelawney. 

Completely disgruntled, he slung his satchel over his neck and savagely climbed up the ladder to the lesson. 

-----

Draco Malfoy had been sat on one of the pouffes nearest the back of the room and had witnessed Harry's entrance into the class dispassionately, a small frown curling his lips. Stupid muggle-lover. The teachers always favoured him over everyone else, just because Harry's forehead had been a little bit of a stumbling block for the Dark Lord. He folded his arms casually, and turned away gently. Staring was one thing, being able to observe the enemy, but being _caught _staring was just plain stupid.

Not like there were many more people to catch his staring. The General Studies OWL was a new qualification, for those wanting to still gain a wider knowledge of subjects they hadn't studied or wanted to take a little further without it being at the high NEWT difficulty level, and not many students had chosen it. So few had picked it that the class was compromised of all four houses jumbled together. Draco had chosen it to get away from Crabbe and Goyle, if he was to be completely honest, and although he may have preferred to pick up an OWL in Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, he had to admit that the General Studies class was interesting, and _did _have an unexpected benefit.

Professor McGonagall had instructed that Divinations was not to be part of the General Studies lesson, and the newly-reinstated Professor Trelawney had objected vehemently, saying seeing the future was a _very _useful talent for a battle. Furious, Trelawney had asked if she could arrange something else which would aid the students, something that wasn't on the General Studies curriculum, but would significantly help in the upcoming war…

No one had quite suspected that the frail-looking professor had got in touch with a few of her oriental wizarding friends and now the General Studies students had also been given extra lessons at midnight – in martial arts.

At first Draco had been a little disgruntled, he didn't want to learn some stupid muggle fighting technique, but after a suitable demonstration he'd reassessed his view on it tremendously. For the lack of any other suitable description word, it was _cool_. And, as his father had added in a rare owl from Azkaban, it would suitably help their conquest against Lord Voldemort.

The blond sniggered softly to himself as he looked up again, lazily scanning over the other students as they settled down for the lesson. He quite remembered Potter's startled reaction at the beginning of the sixth year when Professor Dumbledore had brought Potter into his office and revealed how the Malfoys had been secretly working for them for a long time now, only upholding their connections with the Dark Lord as a subterfuge. He'd enjoyed the small appraising look the raven-haired boy had suddenly given him and liked the fact that he'd managed to give his rival's world a little shake, if not turned it completely upside-down.

"Hello, children."

Professor Trelawney's soft voice floating down from the front of the classroom disrupted Draco from his thoughts and he lazily lifted his gaze, training it on the teacher respectfully.

"Today we are going to do a little numerology." She held up her hand to stop the groans that were being made by Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan – the only two Hufflepuffs who had chosen to do General Studies. Draco quite suspected they chose it because it involved the least physical exertion, and was quite amused on their sakes because of the midnight lessons it was the one that involved the most strenuous activities. 

Of course, after what had happened last night… Draco kept his gaze trained on the teacher, letting his thoughts drift.

"Of course, we aren't doing the more advanced numerology, only the grammatica house changes that we all know are relevant in the love life of a young wizard," Trelawney continued.

There was a little bit of tittering from the Ravenclaws, and from Lavender Brown and the Patil twins who had chosen the wide-ranging subject because of the teacher.

Draco forced himself to pay attention. His love life as such as it was was one of the things that was making his normally-stable life to spin wildly out of orbit.

"So, today, we will fill out our numerology charts, to the best of our ability. Your birth dates, favourite colours, moods, family heritage and such… That should be the easy part. I will help you on the harder calculations," Trelawney continued. Dean Thomas put his hand in the air and Trelawney held up one hand again. "Dean, the point of this all is we are going to see who in this class would make a compatible couple."

There were more giggles from the girls and more than a few reluctant groans. Draco hoped ferverently he wouldn't get a muggle as his so-called match. Even though it was all completely fake anyway, there were those who worshipped everything the Divinations teacher said, and it would not do his reputation much. Nor would it help his smoke-screen at school if the rumour got out that his perfect match in heaven was a muggle.

-----

Harry frowned at the roll of parchment in front of him and he scratched away at it with his quill. The parchment flaked under his furious scratching, and the ink soaked through onto the tablecloths, but Harry blindly ignored that fact. There were *reams* of data to be filled in, and the math equation things at the end looked more scary than anything they'd done before. Harry thanked his lucky stars (which he'd found out were Sirius the Dog Star, which had saddened him for a long time until Hermione gently pointed out it was like Sirius was looking down on him even now, and Avortuna Major, supposedly a very lucky but dangerous star) that he had chosen to do General Studies. He could be doing Numerology full time, like Ron, or Legilimency, like Hermione (which he suspected she was being taught so she could help Harry with his Occlumency attempts.)

Harry looked up, his gaze flickering over all who'd stayed this year to do General Studies. The Patil twins, Lavender Brown, Pansy Parkinson, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, a couple of Ravenclaw girls Harry knew by sight but not by name and the biggest surprise of them all – Draco Malfoy. Harry supposed that it was by his father's instruction with this big plan they had for deceiving Voldemort. Not that Harry wasn't glad of the fact that the Malfoys were actually good. He just wished that Malfoy didn't have to be so mean to him. "For the cause," Draco had sneeringly replied when Harry had asked him about his attitude towards him for the last four years.

The martial arts part of the course had surprised them all, but all of them had embraced it fully and with a good attitude to it all. They had one lesson a night every weekday in a different martial art and all with the advanced and dense training patterns had become quite proficient at it. Monday was the T_ai kwon do_ night, Tuesday was training with the Japanese Bo (a wooden pole which was just over six foot in length) Wednesday was _Ai kido_, Thursday was _karate _and Friday was the day they all split up to do different things.

Professor Trelawney had chosen for Harry to do something spectacularly weird – a mixture of techniques from the four disciplines but to do it invisible – citing that she thought in the future that invisible fighting would hold a part for him. Of course the whole invisible thing was part of the trouble. He'd been fighting with the same person, for that much he was sure, for the last three months, and…

Harry shook his head. What had happened last night had blown his mind. Completely. Shaking his head, he bent down over his work and scratched away at it, hoping to get it finished. Perhaps this love numerology augur thing would help him discover exactly what had happened last night.

-----

_Flashback_

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_Harry had to stop himself from swearing out loud as a jab from seemingly nowhere and he stumbled to the side, holding his ribs. Closing his eyes he listened softly, using the techniques he'd been taught to recognise the other's movements. He knew his opponent was male, strong, fast, and lithe and that was about all he knew. Sensei Matani oversaw their session as such – Professor Trelawney had given them strict instructions… Although they could say small things, they were NOT allowed to interchange such information that would reveal their identities to each other. She'd explained this in a round-about way, alluding to some rot about the enemy being faceless or something. She was the one who had cast the spell to make them invisible for the session._

_He rolled to the side as he felt something whistle through the air and he brought up his Bo defensively, smirking in satisfaction as the other's Bo made a satisfying thud against his own. Remembering his kick from Karate Harry lashed out with his foot, leaping to his feet he was happy to hear the sound of the other's Bo rolling away and out of his opponent's grasp. A quick whispered startled oath was released from the other's and it distracted Harry as he tried to recognise the tone of the voice. That second's delay cost him his Bo too… A well-aimed hit took it out and threw it across the room. Unfortunately he couldn't see it so picking it up again wasn't an option unless he literally tripped over it._

_Taking a deep breath, Harry launched himself forwards, feeling a surge of adrenaline as his opponent parried almost every move he made and tried to gain the upper-hand. Somewhere their training went out the window and in the confusion Harry had slammed the other to the floor. He felt arms grab his sides unsteadily and he was flipped over. Over and over they rolled until Harry felt a sudden pain in his head and starts burst before his vision. His head had been slammed into the wall. Wincing, Harry retaliated instantly, lashing out even as the other tried to valiantly hold onto him. He managed to wriggle out of the grasp a little and swore again as his opponent grabbed hold of his spare wrist._

_With a grunt of frustration Harry lashed out, somehow managing to grab hold of his rival's free wrist. Struggling wildly they both managed to get to their feet and the situation struck Harry as funny. Obviously it struck the other as funny too as they both suddenly cracked up laughing. They'd been in this similar situation in Ai kido last week – a double wrist grab or something – and it had spawned the Divination classes' catchphrase "Grab my wrist!"_

_Obviously that thought had struck the other as well and he – for the voice and physique of the other belied that much recognition at least – muttered softly (almost sardonically): "Grab my wrist."_

_Somehow amongst all the confusion their heads must have almost been touching. Harry could feel their breath grazing his skin and his eyes slid shut briefly. He was breathing hard and it wasn't because of the physical exertion of their fighting. He felt dizzy and the breathing of his opponent washed over him. Frightened he almost clung to the other, terrified but elated at the same time._

_In his bewilderment he had barely registered the other had stopped fighting too and somehow… Harry didn't exactly know how… The other's hand rested on his cheek softly as if he was frightened he was going to disappear. Harry took a sharp breath of air, wondering why the room was spinning wildly. He didn't have to winder long as soft lips claimed his, tentatively moving over his own. Startled, Harry stood there mutely for a second enjoying the burning feeling, before gasping as the other moved abruptly away. Feeling bereft of the contact Harry without thinking grabbed out and wildly made contact with the other. Moving forwards and relying purely on instinct he ignored the part of his brain that was screaming at him reminding him this was a boy and he didn't know who it was. He reached out, searching, and was rewarded with a soft startled moan as he found the other's lips with his own. It was all Harry could do to remain upright as the other frantically returned the kiss, entwining their hands in Harry's hair. Harry leant into it, trying to feel as much of it as he could before they inevitably had to break apart for oxygen. That moment came too soon and Harry took another deep breath his entire world dizzy and blurred before somehow it all began again and frantic lips claimed his and he was only slightly aware that the other had lowered him onto the ground. Their lips met yet again, and the kiss deepened as heart-rates escalated and Harry was almost drowned in the new sensations and raging feelings as his entire world exploded from the intensity of it all._

_"Time to finish, boys," a lazy voice said and the voice broke them apart hurriedly. Harry staggered to his feet, his brain still a pile of mush._

-----

Harry frowned as he quickly filled in the rest of the easy details, aware of a delicate blush colouring his normally bland features.

"Harry, why are you blushing?" Seamus asked suddenly, inquisitively. Harry cursed the Irish boy for his uncanny ability to point out the one thing you didn't want noticed and frowned before replying.

"It's too hot up here," he said quickly. It wasn't exactly a lie. He was feeling rather hot and bothered from the memory of last night.

Fortunately Seamus took his stammered explanation at face value and returned to his parchment, frowning before raising his hand for Professor Trelawney's help with the final calculations.

-----

Draco scanned the piece of parchment in front of him. Fortunately he'd taken numerology last year and been quite surprised with how naturally it had come to him. He scanned over his calculations with a calculating eye and knew that the final answer was completely correct. And from what he'd heard of these love augur things, then your so-called 'perfect partner' was supposed to have exactly the same number. Draco scowled at the numbers before letting his gaze drift up to the class. The rest seemed to be having trouble with the end calculations and Trelawney was over at Potter's table. Seamus Finnegan had appeared to try and set fire to their ditzy Professor's robes and Draco suppressed a snigger.

Letting his gaze drift back down to his parchment his mind returned to the memory of last night… His cheeks started to burn involuntarily and he tried to suppress the thought that the person – the boy – who had turned his whole world and heart upside down was someone in this class. Draco crossed his fingers and hoped it wasn't Neville Longbottom. He could at least avoid that particular humiliation…

Mind you, Draco thought languidly, if it was Longbottom he was a really good kisser…

Shaking his head abruptly, Draco scowled. He could do without that kind of thought. That was a one-off and was never going to happen again. His thoughts drifted off lethargically and it must have been about fifteen minutes later when Professor Trelawney clapped her hands together excitedly.

"Right, class, I've checked everyone's calculations and they're all perfect," she enthused proudly. Draco looked down and he noticed his parchment had disappeared. Scowling he realised while he was off day-dreaming the professor had collected it back in. He resolved to pay more attention in class and watched curiously as she looked through the papers, noting a couple of things on a scrap of parchment.

"Oh, my," she muttered once, staring at two of the parchments in great bewilderment. "No… carry the one… multiply by five… They're both perfectly correct. Curious. Very curious."

Draco strained to listen as she muttered and raised his eyebrows. Exciting muttering broke out between the girls.

"I've finished," Trelawney said dramatically, rising to her feet. "And we have a couple of non-surprising results, and one result that is very, very curious and doesn't often happen, only between the great couples destined by the stars themselves."

Lavender, Padma and Patil squealed in excitement and looked embarrassed as Trelawney raised an eyebrow at their behaviour.

"The two couples that match quite well in this class would be Hannah Abbott and Dean Thomas…" She looked over the top of the parchment at the classes reaction. Hannah blushed furiously and dipped her head down while Seamus poked Dean in the ribs with a wide smile gracing his lips. "I wouldn't tease him too much, Mr. Finnegan." Seamus went silently and looked at her sharply. "You also had quite a close number match indeed… with Miss. Brown."

Seamus gaped at her, his mouth working furiously but no sound was coming forth. Lavender blushed a bright crimson and Dean was looking at Seamus smugly before catching Abbott's curious glance and looking away, blushing.

"But…" She held up one arm for emphasis, the glittery fabric of her robe falling down and shimmering in the dull light. "This result is surprising, but for the two concerned… This kind of result has only happened twice through my years at Hogwarts – both with couples that have remained very strong and very together."

"Who were they?" Padma Patil asked, her brown eyes shining with complete admiration for the teacher.

"James Potter and Lily Evans… and Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa LOOKUP," Professor Trelawney said, her voice tinged with amusement. "These names ring a bell I presume?"

The class turned to stare at Harry and Draco alternately. Harry looked intrigued from the information – any information about his parents intrigued him greatly. Draco, on the other hand, just stared back at them flatly. He knew this already – his parents had told him countless times.

"So who are the two in our class?" Parvati asked, staring raptly at Professor Trelawney.

"Why, I think it's rather odd for this to happen, but the equations don't lie, and have never lied before," Professor Trelawney said. Draco rather suspected she was just teasing the three girls whom she knew were her fans.

"Who is it?" Lavender pressed.

"Isn't it obvious?" Professor Trelawney smiled coquettishly, putting her head slightly to the side. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

"WHAT THE HELL?"

Two simultaneous exclamations as both of the boys sprung to their feet.

"That's completely… wrong," Draco said, feeling a little sick. Harry Potter, his destined love… Oh _fuck_…

The entire room was in consternation. Lavender almost recalculated her impressions of Professor Trelawney on the spot, but she looked at the two papers and sets of calculations.

"They do look right," she said into the silence. There was a thud as Harry sat down, looking truly astonished and just plain shell-shocked. Seamus patted his arm gently.

"Oh come on, Harry, it could have been worse," the Irish boy consoled. Harry's head flew up to stare at him. "It could have been Snape," he added, grinning. Harry let out a strangled sob and buried his head in his arms.

Draco, on the other hand, remained out of his seat and furiously stomped over to the front table. He grabbed Harry's augurs and stared at them for a long time. The class watched in half-horror, half-amusement as Draco scanned over the calculations. By the time he was finished he looked almost gaunt, ashen-faced.

"Bloody hell," he said finally, dropping the parchment with a look of disgust. Muttering broke out among the students. Draco scowled and they went silent again. He crossed the room and mutinously sat down, folding his arms in shock and disgust.

Harry was having completely the same problem. He couldn't believe it was true… No way, no how, not at all… Malfoy? A traitorous part of his mind pointed out that he did kiss another boy the day before and that person could very theoretically have been Malfoy and he had enjoyed it.

Harry let out another strangled sob which was thankfully swallowed by the bell, resounding and covering up his groan. Professor Trelawney dismissed everyone and true to form Malfoy was the first out, blushing furiously. Harry blinked as he realised he was the last student in the room. Cautiously he approached Professor Trelawney.

"Can I…" He paused, taking a deep breath uncomfortably aware he was blushing ridiculously. "Can I borrow these?" He asked hurriedly. Professor Trelawney smiled softly.

"Of course, Harry," she said, beaming at him. "I always had a notion about you two," she added. Harry stammered his goodbye and made a frantic escape. Professor Trelawney smiled softly to herself, then frowned. The fourth years were coming next and Ginny Weasley was going to break a crystal ball. She got to her feet and made a mental note to give the redhead the cheapest one before allowing herself another indulgent smile. Maybe this would help with her reputation around school.

-----

Hermione looked up in confusion as Harry ran into the main hall, rather breathless and clutching some parchment. Ron saw him and waved.

"Over here, Harry," he called.

Harry nodded and approached them, frowning as he realised the news of the result was already making its way around school and he was already being regarded with a couple of curious and disbelieving stares.

He walked over to Hermione and dumped the two parchments in front of her. She blinked and picked them up.

"Harry, these are love augurs with one of the names covered up…" She said, frowning. "Did you do these in divination today? End up with anyone interesting?"

Harry frowned. This wasn't the result she was expecting.

"What?" He asked curiously.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I don't have much faith in divination, but numerology I do have faith in… Love augurs are always incredibly accurate."

Harry groaned and buried his head in his arms again.

"Lets have a look," Ron said conversationally. "I've heard of those." His gaze scanned the parchment and his jaw dropped. "Perfect numbers!" He said wonderingly. "Who is it Harry? You have a match, wow, that's really rare!"

Hermione grabbed the parchments from Ron hurriedly. "Let's have a look again," she said firmly, scanning over the calculations. "The calculations are exact! Who is it Harry? Inquiring minds want to know!"

Harry just let out a strangled groan again.

Hermione sighed and lifted out her red revealer that she'd purchased from Diagon alley ages ago. Then she gasped and swore out loud.

"Harry," she gasped softly. "Oh no! You must feel dreadful!"

Harry nodded slowly, feeling sick. "I do… it can't be right…"

"But it is," Hermione said softly. "I'm sure… you can bring him round to liking muggles eventually," she added dubiously. Harry glared at her, folding his arms.

"It's just…" Harry pulled a face. "It can't be right," he added hopelessly. "It can't be him… It can't…"

"Him?" Ron has just caught on to the conversation. "HIM?" He snatched the parchment back from Hermione and stared at it in complete puzzlement. "Well, that's sorted it, Divination is completely bollocks."

Hermione immediately defended the love augur. "Ron, those kind of calculations don't lie… Think of the great wizarding partners throughout history it matched with! Fhurrer the Bold and Ethelenn the Ready!"

"Orrun the Unwashed and Ulrike the Ugsome," Harry retorted sarcastically, relating the names of two infamous wizard criminals.

Hermione launched a dark look at Harry, who was starting to look a little more cheerful - possibly, she reflected, of the mental image of him and Malfoy rubbing themselves in glow-in-the-dark mud and holding up Zonko's with nothing but a rubber parrot and half a packet of blood lollipops - and continued her diatribe. "History doesn't lie, Ron, and the percentages are too high for it to be coincidence!"

Ron pulled a face, looking pale. "I know… but Malfoy?"

"You're not the one who has to…" Harry pulled a similar face as Ron's.

"Harry," Hermione said firmly. "Ignore this. It's only ninety-nine per cent of all cases, anyway. You could be a one per cent. You can love whoever you want to. No one else can control your heart."

Harry considered this for a minute, feeling better. "Thanks, Hermione," he said softly, smiling for the first time since the whole thing started. Then he frowned.

"What?" Ron asked, noticing the frown.

"It still doesn't help the rumours going around, does it?" Harry asked, feeling pale and shaken.

Ron and Hermione shook their heads in complete unison.

"Nope," Ron replied softly. "Not at all."

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	2. Antisyzygy

Title: Dungeons and Distractions v2.0 

Author: Mizzy 

E-mail: mizzy_2k@yahoo.co.uk 

Rating: PG-13 

Homepage: 

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

Summary: "_Grab my wrist!"_ Midnight martial arts, invisible kissing at midnight, and Professor Dumbledore trying to smuggle in illegal immigrants? What's a boy to do in a mixed-up muddle of a mixed-up world? 

Author's Notes: Ai no densetsu, for those not in the know, is the remarkably addictive theme tune to Naoko Takeuchi's Sailor Moon.

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Part Two - "Antisyzygy"

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**Antisyzygy **

**n. **_union of opposites_

Harry was having a rather good time in the ai kido session. 

Possibly because it let him let out his frustrations in a good way. As predicted the rumours had spread like wildfire around the school and Harry thought that his cheeks would be permanently stained red from all the ridiculous blushing he was doing. A lot of the Gryffindors were actually avoiding him, and so were some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. 

The Slytherins, on the other hand, had started to accept him as almost one of their own.

This might have been partly due to the fact that somewhere along the line the true story of Harry's sorting slipped out and now the whole school knew the sorting hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin, but – as the Slytherins saw it – he had been given some bad advice and had been put off Slytherin.

Harry scratched his head, listening to the careful instructions from the teacher while he let his mind drift off again. Recently he had been getting more and more distracted by things and, truth be told, it annoyed him as well as pissing off Snape even more. However his grades hadn't suffered _too _much, so it wasn't all bad.

The events of the last couple of months had literally turned his entire world upside down. Discovering the Malfoys were good had led to a lot of soul-searching and Harry questioned his entire perspective of life constantly. Cedric's death still haunted him, but the impact had been slightly lessened by the 'incident' with Cho Chang and a small talk early into his sixth year. Cho admitted she didn't believe he was to blame, and she added firmly she would get all of the Ravenclaws at Hogwarts to kick his sorry ass if he tried to believe otherwise.

Harry watched attentively as the instructor – Sensei Ayanami – taught them how to flip their opponent and smothered a smile as Hannah Abbott tried to flip Lisa Turpin and failed miserably.

Draco had dealt with the whole Situation (anything this crazy deserved capitals) curiously, Harry thought. The Slytherin had just withdrawn, not talked to anyone, not even Crabbe and Goyle from all reports. Some of the nastier Slytherins of course took this as a sign that all the rumours were completely true. Well, Harry reflected softly as Lisa turned on Hannah and flipped the blond Hufflepuff over her shoulder rapidly, except the one about Snape and the blue paint…

Harry blinked as Professor Trelawney, who had been quietly watching the class from the corner, started to split up the group into pairs to try out the new move, which relied on the other person's speed to use their momentum to get them to the ground. Harry tried to instinctively edge towards Seamus and the Irish boy actually laughed out loud while Dean Thomas yawned at him, hiding a grin behind his hand.

"Harry, you'll work with Draco," Professor Trelawney said, beaming at him. Harry's eyes narrowed and Draco instinctively started to protest.

"But Professor—" he started. Professor Trelawney put her head to one side, blinking owlishly at him.

"I think the boy protesteth too much," Sybille said finally, grinning. Harry stifled a snigger and Draco looked at first outraged, then curious.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his curiosity outweighing his indignation.

"He means that if you didn't have feelings for Harry you wouldn't be protesting so much," Lavender offered, grinning along with her training partner for the night – Ernie Macmillan.

Draco actually managed to look torn between killing someone, he flushed queerly and his mouth dropped open. His eyes narrowed and he finally shut up, folding his arms and standing stiffly back as Professor Trelawney finished partnering everyone up. Soon the entire room was filled with the thuds of people falling, the shrieks of the girls and Sensei Ayanami's quiet suggestions.

"I swear she's just doing this to make me go crazy," Draco muttered as he stood opposite Harry, arms still folded.

Harry blinked, startled that the other had spoken.

"Me too," he offered softly. "You're not the only one affected."

"Yeah well it's all your fault!" Draco returned, deep grey eyes lost in thought moving to stare at the door.

"How is it all my fault?" Harry demanded instantly.

"Everything's always your fault," Draco said sulkily, passing one hand absent-mindedly through his lengthening blond hair.

"My fault?" Harry asked again, green eyes dancing with fury. Without any prior warning he charged Draco, grabbing hold of the blond's wrist and flinging the other boy to the floor. The blond landed with a pleasing crunch on the floor and immediately leapt to his feet: scowling dangerously before flinging himself onto the other boy and tackling them both down to the ground. Harry responded in kind, kicking the other boy solidly in the leg.

"Boys, stop it now!" Professor Trelawney said. Her voice was lost in the storm of voices and of things cracking.

Harry scowled as Draco punched him in the stomach, winding him so he responded by rolling out of the way. Grabbing out at Draco's arm, Harry used it to pull the other boy to one side. Seamus winced as he heard someone's bone cracking although in the complete confusion no one knew if it belonged to Harry or Draco.

Draco scowled again, the narrowing of his eyes the only warning Harry got before being pushed to the ground again. He snarled and lashed out with his foot again before missing something blurring and cracking him in the side of the face. He winced as blood rushed before his vision and the world went dizzy. The only thought in his mind was of getting back at the person doing this to him.

Yanking out, Harry grabbed fistfuls of blond hair and pulled. Draco actually shrieked out loud and Harry blinked fuzzily as blond clumps of hair came off in his hand. Another knock later and he heard some glass shattering, realising suddenly his glasses had been knocked off in the skirmish and the remains were probably lying on the ground. He found out exactly where the broken glass was moments later as Draco wrenched himself, using his body to move them both and then there was the fiery pain as the broken glass bit into Harry's hand. Yelping in shock, he pulled out of Draco's grappling grasp and stumbled upwards and backwards.

"BOYS!"

Professor Trelawney's voice startled Harry out of his shock and he landed backwards on his bum, clutching at his head in bewilderment.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Harry wondered about that briefly as everything in the room swam around his vision. He could see the others crowded around the scene and Professor Trelawney looking angry and Draco stumbling to his feet looking quite battered and Sensei Ayanami actually looking quite impressed at the amount of damage they'd managed to inflict on each other before the pain got to much and he closed his eyes, feeling woozy and light-headed.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hannah Abbott asked fearfully, clutching Lavender's sleeve in worry. Harry nodded, pushing himself to his feet before realising just whose bone had snapped.

"I think my wrist's broken," he said emptily as the pain suddenly got too much and he passed out.

-----

Draco blinked in surprise as the other boy careered over and lay stilly on the ground, pale and covered in blood, cuts and bruises. A small sense of triumph washed over him that he had beat his enemy, but a curious emotion followed making him feel as if someone had ripped out his guts, which he shook off quickly.

"You Slytherin rat," Seamus hissed. "He wasn't doing anything to you."

Draco raised an eyebrow and turned away, feeling the truth bitterly. Seamus was right. Harry had been the first to attack, but that was the whole point of the class. Draco took the thing to a personal level as always and let his emotions get in the way. He had no right to respond like that, none at all and now Harry looked almost dead, pale and crumpled on the floor. He'd never noticed before how delicate the other boy was, how vulnerable. Perhaps it was because Harry wasn't wearing his glasses per se, the amount ground into his skin didn't exactly constitute to him wearing them. Harry was small for their age. The flowing school robes usually hid the figure of most of the students, but the crumpled Gryffindor on the ground was very slender and scrawny for his age.

"Malfoy, are you all right?" Dean Thomas asked suddenly.

Startled, Draco looked up – almost frightened – to see the rest of the class looking at him questioningly.

"Leave him alone, Dean," Seamus said softly. "Imagine how you'd react in his situation."

_His situation?_ Draco thought numbly as Professor Trelawney and Sensei Ayanami finally leant down to deal with the unmoving boy on the floor. Indignation flooded Draco's cheeks and he turned to face Seamus and Dean, trembling.

"Look if you're trying to insinuate I feel anything for Harry then you're wrong –" he started. Seamus cut him off quickly.

"I'm not insinuating anything," Seamus said flatly, his eyes boring into Draco's. "You know what you feel. I suggest you have a good think and find out exactly what you do feel. You touch our Harry again in so much as a threatening way and we will kill you."

Draco's mouth opened softly and he shut it quickly. "Our Harry?" He asked faintly, the words reeling in his head.

"That's right," Dean said, steadily. "Our Harry. He's family."

Draco stared at them wordlessly, faintly aware of the whole class taking interest in the exchange.

"You can't make me be someone I'm not," he said faintly, finally.

"Well then," Seamus challenged. "Who are you?"

"I…" Draco stared at the sandy-haired boy wordlessly. "I…" He continued to stare at the boy before his whole stance suddenly changed. "I don't have to answer to you!" He yelled suddenly, blood pounding in his ears. Without any regard to where he was or where he was supposed to be, he fled the room, tears burning on his cheeks.

He must have run the entire length of the school, up the endless flights of stairs leading up to ground level and up to the Slytherin dormitories. He stomped into the dorm room, his startled entry waking up Crabbe.

"Oy, Draco, whatzzamatterwivyou?" The sluggish crony asked sleepily.

"Nothing, shut the hell up and leave me alone!" Draco ground out, horrified.

Crabbe blinked, noticing the cuts and bruises on his fiend.

"But you're hurt," he said just as sleepily. Draco pulled a face at the bulky Slytherin.

"I'm fine," the blond snapped. His head was pounding and his whole body was shaking. "Actually…" He wobbled a little. "I don't feel too great," he admitted before toppling to the ground, his head cracking against a bedpost. Vincent winced and realised he'd actually have to get out of bed to deal with the situation. Damn. He'd actually just got nice and warm and comfortable and all.

Typical.

-----

"Looks like you gave as good as you got."

The first words that Draco heard as he slowly regained consciousness were unmistakably from the Weasel.

"Although how you fought like that in Divinations is beyond me."

"Shut up, Ron."

Ah. It sounded like Harry was annoyed. Draco blinked and tried to push himself up, wincing as a searing pain washed through his arm.

"Shush, he's awake," Hermione whispered.

"Why?" Ron asked, obnoxiously and not bothering to keep his voice down.

Harry winced. "Because some of us have pounding headaches which can't deal with loud voices."

Draco closed to his eyes and stubbornly fought the pain in his arm as he struggled to pull himself upright.

"Don't be stupid, Malfoy," Hermione said softly, annoyed. Draco blinked at her furiously.

"She's right, you fractured your left wrist," Harry added. "Try your right one."

Draco sneered, his vision hazy but he could still make out the familiar three figures of his rivals. He continued to push on his left wrist before realising that unfortunately they were right. Apparantly Harry wasn't the only one with broken bones from the incident.

-----

"So who attacked first?" Ron asked Harry, stubbornly avoiding the blonde Slytherin in the other bed. Harry winced and averted his gaze to the left.

"I… don't remember," he lied quickly.

"Pity," Hermione said. Then her gaze flickered to the hourglass on the wall. "Oh no it's Herbology in five minutes…"

"We can skip Herbology, can't we?" Ron asked plaintively. Hermione put him under a very quailing stare.

"Go to your lesson, Ron," Harry said weakly, still feeling incredibly dizzy. "I'll be all right."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked dubiously, casting a scathing glance in Draco's direction. The Slytherin responded with a sneer.

"I'm sure," Harry replied, his voice strained.

"Come on," Hermione said, pulling at Ron's arm. "I'll bring you back the homework."

"Thanks," Harry said flatly. Ron flashed him a toothy grin as he was literally dragged out of the infirmary by a slightly-subdued but still enthusiastic Hermione.

He settled back with a sigh, wincing as he realised the bruises along the back of his head wouldn't let him comfortably rest.

"Now whose fault is it?" Harry asked bitterly, twisting to see Draco looking at him peculiarly.

Draco blinked, a faint flush rising in his white-pale cheeks. "Yours of course," Draco managed to say primly. Harry rolled his eyes and folded his stiff arms, looking stubbornly forwards.

"Actually I was doing what we were supposed to. You were the one who turned it into a cat-fight," Harry argued, stars dancing along the horizon of his vision. He angrily shook his head trying to clear his blurry vision and then realised why his vision was totally blurred. "And now thanks to you, I can't even see properly!"

Draco blinked fuzzily, noticing why the other boy looked so strange – the usual round glasses that were by and large perched on Harry's nose weren't present. He realised with a jolt that it was his fault and he grabbed forwards for his wand. Harry watched as the blond picked up his wand, and shuffled back instinctively.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked timidly.

Draco smothered a sigh. "I'm trying to help you," he said huffily. Harry blinked and took a double-take.

"You're what?"

Draco rolled his eyes to the ceiling, his features creased with annoyance.

"I'm trying to help you," he repeated dully. "Now hold still."

Startled at the order Harry stayed still and Draco gave his wand a flick.

"_Visage correctus_," he said lazily.

Harry screwed his face up. "Is that a real spell?"

Draco gave him a flat look and a silver stream of light shone out from his wand, hitting him in the eyes.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed. "No wonder you've never helped people before," he said, clutching at his eyes.

"It's supposed to hurt, else it doesn't work," Draco said patiently.

"What's supposed to work?" Harry asked crossly.

"Open your damn eyes, Harry," Draco snapped, dropping his wand back on the bedside table. Harry squinted and blinked a few times. The whole place was all blurry – the spell hadn't worked. Then the room span a little for Harry and he grabbed hold of the sides of the bed before it still slowed and everything kind of grinded to a halt. He blinked again cautiously and then realised everything was crystal clear – better than even with his glasses.

"Hey, I can see," Harry blurted out, looking around curiously. "What did you do?"

"Fixed your eyes," Draco said flippantly. "You'll never need glasses again."

"What?" Harry was astounded. "But if you can… Then why didn't they before? I mean…"

Draco chuckled softly. "Why do the teachers ever do what they do? I presume it's to make people think you're weaker than you really are."

Harry frowned, feeling strange without his glasses on. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window and frowned at it. He looked different, and it wasn't just the crimson bruise decorating his cheek.

"I suppose so," he grudgingly allowed. He looked at the blond for a second before frowning. "Did I really do all that to you?"

Draco laughed, a curious humourless laugh. "You did. I didn't think you had it in you."

Harry blinked. The Slytherin sounded almost… congratulatory. As if his strength or skill or whatever had some bearing on who he was. Perhaps it did to the Slytherins.

"I knew you had this in you," Harry said sourly. Draco actually laughed.

"Well I do seem the type," he said sardonically. Harry laughed weakly and then frowned.

"Sadistic, malevolent and a snazzy dresser, yeah," Harry quipped. "It hurts to laugh," he added, still frowning. "I think you bruised my ribs."

Draco looked quite pleased with himself. "I think a job well done," he said mockingly.

"Hey, I fractured your wrist," Harry said sourly. Draco pulled a face.

"Don't remind me," he said, grunting. Draco rolled his eyes again and laughed.

"Oh no," Harry said suddenly. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"What?" He asked curiously.

"Friday today," Harry said shortly. "And I'm supposed to go to lessons like this?"

"Madame Pomfrey should have us cleaned up by tonight," Draco reasoned, lying back against the headboard and studying the ceiling. "What do you do, anyway? I think we all do different things – according to Lisa Turpin and Lavender Brown, anyway."

"Do we? I thought we all did Invisible fighting…" Harry suddenly shut his mouth. "Hey! I wasn't supposed to say that was I? Uh… forget I said anything."

Draco's mind completely slid to a stand-still. That meant Harry was the one he -- Gods.

"Sure. Is it fun?" Draco forced himself to stay calm. At least Harry didn't suspect it was him he'd kissed. Jaysusmaryandjoseph, though… It had to be, didn't it?

It just freaking had to be Harry Potter that made him feel so alive.

"You could say that," Harry said, traces of a remembering smirk on his face. "What do you do?"

Oh Gods. Draco's mind froze and he stuttered out the first thing to come into his head. "Uh… Ai no densetsu." It was the name of a Japanese song he'd heard a little while ago while in Knockturn alley. He hoped to the skies that Harry didn't know the song or what it meant - "Legends of love."

If Harry did know the song or the meaning no visible sign showed on his face. He raised an eyebrow.

"Is it interesting?"

Draco nodded and a shy smile crept across his face. "Very."

"Learn anything good?" Harry asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

His smile grew as the memory of the burning kiss and his eyes slid shut. "Yes," he whispered, one word.

"Good," Harry replied sleepily. "At least you can see where you're going. I got my head slammed into the wall last time because I didn't know my head was anywhere near the wall."

Draco blinked, surprised_. So that was what the thudding sound was? I thought it was my heart – it was going so fast…_

"Draco?" Harry prompted, curiously.

"Uh… That must have hurt," he said dazedly, ignoring the blush that was rising steadily in his cheeks.

"It did," Harry said, noticing the other's blush and misinterpreting it. "Is it me or is it really hot in here?"

-----

_Oh dear Gods, say he did not say that out loud…_

Draco swallowed and nodded. "Madame Pomfrey?" He called out tentatively, steadfastly avoiding looking at Harry and trying to control his breathing. Breathing actually hurt, making him wonder if Harry had bruised his ribs too. Mind you, he wasn't going to admit that out loud even if Harry had. Draco cast a look over in Harry's direction, noticing the way the other's black hair was completely tousled but still made him look gorgeous…

_Wait a second… When did he come from being a brat, an annoyance and Potter to becoming Harry and gorgeous? _Draco turned away, flushing. _Gods, my head must have been hit really hard last night…Stupid, stupid hormones. Stupid, stupid hormones. La-la-la-la, la-la-la-WHAT THE HELL?_ Draco realised with a jolt what he was thinking, and felt a little light-headed. He must be crazy, he was singing to himself... 

Shaking his head like a dog, he looked over to the door in time to see Madame Pomfrey bustling over. She gave an appraising look over both of the boys. "How are you two feeling?"

"Fine," Harry said, wincing. Madame Pomfrey caught the wince and frowned. "Not too hot, actually."

"Actually it is too hot in here," Draco countered, a grin playing on his face. "That's the problem."

Madame Pomfrey looked at him strangely before nodding. "OK." She lifted out her wand and gave it a little wave and the temperature went down a little. "You two should be fixed up ready for tonight." Draco let out a sigh of relief. "But –" she warned quickly, "I know what Trelawney's teaching you, and I want you both to take it easy tonight. If you go at all."

"We're going," Draco said firmly. "It's too important not to."

"Hmm," Madame Pomfrey sounded extremely unconvinced and her mouth settled into a thin line which reminded Harry uncomfortably of his Aunt Petunia. "Well, then take it easy. And no lessons today. I won't sit by and let you do too many strenuous exercises."

"Great, but that means we miss Defence Against the Dark Arts!" Harry protested instantly, finally quailing under Madame Pomfrey's sudden glare.

"On a plus side we miss Potions," Draco put in quietly.

"True," Harry agreed before stopping to stare incredulously at the bruised blond in the bed next to his. "What? I thought you liked Potions?"

"Don't assume things, Potter," Draco said airily.

"And don't you two assume anything either," Madame Pomfrey butted in, looking stern. "If you want to do this thing tonight, then sleep!"

Harry blinked at her and Draco nodded. "Yes ma'am," they said simultaneously before exchanging a bewildered look and bursting out into laughter.

"Oww that hurts," Harry complained.

"Go to sleep, man, then you won't laugh," Draco suggested, levering himself down under his own covers under the scrupulous glare of the infirmary nurse.

"Want to bet? Apparantly one night I laughed like a hyena the whole way through," Harry said sleepily as he snuggled under his own covers.

"Have you any idea why?"

Harry laughed. "It was the day after we did the Riddikulus thing with the Boggarts," he admitted, his eyelids starting to droop. "I kept imagining Snape with Mrs. Longbottom's clothes on."

Draco snickered softly. "Sleep well," he said softly.

"You too," Harry replied sleepily.

Draco watched as Madame Pomfrey moved away and from the slightly muffled breathing knew Harry had fallen asleep. Almost instinctively he turned to look at Harry, his thoughts in complete turmoil and his heart hammering at his ribcage like a jack-hammer.

He might have intended to turn Harry's world completely upside-down, but he'd had no preconceptions that his world would be twisted upside-down at the same time. Draco watched Harry sleep on quietly in the bed opposite him and he sighed feeling a pang of something in his chest which puzzled him. Whatever it was would have to wait until he got some decent sleep… was Draco's last conscious thought as the world of dreams quietly claimed its own for a few hours.

-----

When Harry woke up the infirmary was darkened from the lack of sunlight outside and all the beds were empty. Frowning he sat upright and flexed his wrist which was a little stiff but it didn't hurt. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed he got to his feet and slipped on some proper clothes. He reached out for his glasses before remembering they'd been totally ruined in the fight and he pulled a face. At least his vision was much better now, thanks to Draco.

Harry wondered when the switch around had occurred, how he could have changed from hating Malfoy with a passion to actually considering him as a civil human being. The events of last night's lesson should have changed his viewpoints, but the fight actually opened Harry's eyes to the fact that Draco could be as passionate about things as other people could. He just wished he could have had that revelation without all the pain.

Wandering into Madame Pomfrey's office, he poked his head round the corner, startling the auburn-haired infirmary nurse immensely.

"Potter, you almost gave me a heart-attack!" She exclaimed, holding one hand against her chest.

Harry stammered an apology. "Sorry. Can I go now?"

Madame Pomfrey smiled and nodded. "Impatient brat. Of course you can. Mr. Malfoy left about ten minutes ago, and dinner's just due to start in the hall. Run along with you."

"Thank you," Harry said, bowing slightly. Madame Pomfrey looked at him curiously.

"You're the most polite boy I've ever come across," she said softly. "If this school had more of you in it, it'd be a better place. Now go on, your friends and young Malfoy will be wondering where you are."

Harry tossed a rakish grin at the nurse and nodded his thanks again before turning and exiting the nauseatingly white hospital wing. As soon as he stepped outside the cold wind bit at his skin, his cheeks immediately went crimson as the blood rushed to his skin to keep his internal body temperature at the correct level.

He crunched along the gravel path, chewing thoughtfully at his lower lip while inattentively passing one hand through his unruly mess of hair. "Ai no densetsu" Draco had said his Friday course was… That was no martial art or even any kind of practice. Harry recognised it all right, though, it was a J-Pop song that Dudley had listened to repeatedly at the Dursleys' – a pretty Oriental transfer student had moved in next door and he had tried to impress her. What did the title mean again? Harry chewed on his lip some more. ''Love's legends' or some rot like that?' Normally Harry wouldn't have dwelled on the fact for too long but for the fact Draco had lied to him, and that made him even more bewildered and perplexed than before. What did Draco have to hide from him?

Harry stood stock still as a concept occurred to him and the wind ruffled his midnight shock of hair as he stood there silently, thinking the concept over.

The battle… the conflict… then the heat of the kiss… The warmth of the emotions…

He blinked, slightly unnerved by the idea, but he couldn't think who else it could have been. The more he thought about it the more it made some kind of weird twisted sense and the less…. The less repulsed of the idea he felt.

Harry bit his lip once more before finally realising it would hurt if he continued that particular exercise before he remembered where he was and where he was supposed to be. Even if Draco wasn't his fighting partner on Fridays, the blond had something to hide and that was enough to incense his curiosity to find out exactly what it was.

Harry entered the hall to a barrage of cheers and banging from the Gryffindor table and to a shy smile from Draco from the Slytherin table. He smiled back at the Slytherin before moving back to his table and sliding in next to Ron and Hermione.

"You feeling better now?" Ron asked, while munching on a bread roll of some description.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, much better. It doesn't even hurt." He held up his arm wonderingly. "It's amazing what they can do with you, really."

"I still don't get how you got so beat up in Divinations," Hermione said conversationally. "I mean I could understand it if it happened in Quidditch, but Divinations?"

Harry shrugged, a smirk playing on his face. "Yeah, well. I did give as good as I got, that's what matters, right?"

"Give the boy a Grammy, he's right," Hermione agreed, laughing. Ron's face creased up.

"Give him a what?" Ron asked. Harry and Hermione just started to laugh harder as Ron looked at them, completely confounded. "I don't get it," the poor redhead said.

"Hey guys." The three looked up to see Seamus drop into his seat opposite them, grabbing hold of a plate.

"Why are you so late?" Ron asked, helping himself to a couple of pork and leek sausages.

"Snape kept me in after class because I accidentally poured Defunghal Brew all over his shoes," Seamus pulled a face. "I'm starved, I missed lunch because I had a detention with Filch, had to clean Moaning Myrtle's loo."

"Oh, how is she?" Harry asked, feeling slightly guilty because he hadn't visited her yet this term.

Seamus looked up to reply to him, then frowned. "I could have sworn the voice was Harry…" he said, frowning at Harry strangely. Harry felt his face heating up from the attention.

"Seamus, what are you talking about? It is Harry," Harry said, feeling pretty stupid. Seamus clapped his hand to his mouth.

"Jaysus… Harry, you gave me a heart-attack there, I thought I'd forgotten someone's name or something… What happened to you? You look so different!" Seamus exclaimed. Harry blinked, bewildered, as Seamus stared at him and then blushed as Hermione, Ron, Dean, Neville and Lavender all staring at him inquisitively.

"Nothing's different!" Harry exclaimed, his voice climbing up an octave in alarm.

"He's not wearing his glasses," Neville offered.

"Oh yeah," Lavender squealed. "Wow, Harry, you look hot!"

"Excuse me?!" Harry demanded, blinking rapidly at the lithe brunette. Lavender giggled a little. Seamus glared a little at Harry despite himself.

"She's right," Hermione added, looking quite stunned.

"WHAT?" Harry blinked and looked at his best friend, shocked.

"A purely empirical observation, but without your glasses… No wonder half of the school has wanted to shag you senseless," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows.

"Do I know you?" Harry asked blankly.

Ron laughed. "All the studying's gone to her head," he said, grinning at Harry's discomfort. "Mind you," he added with a mischievous look on his face. "If I was of that persuasion, I'd say it was a pity that you and Malfoy are a match and all."

"Right, that's it!" Harry declared, pushing his chair back his cheeks flushed and eyes rounded. "I'm moving! I don't know any of you!"

He quickly picked up his plate and aware that the top of his ears were red he moved further down the table to sit with Fred and George, pointedly ignoring the giggles coming from his so-called friends.

"What's up with them?" Fred asked as Harry – disgruntled - sat down opposite them and began to savagely tear at his food.

"They're picking on me," Harry said plaintively.

"Is that because they've suddenly realised there was actually someone hiding behind your glasses?" George asked perceptively.

Harry blinked. "How did you –"

Fred gave a little laugh. "You know Oliver Wood? Total chick-magnet and never realised it? He used to wear glass and boy was he a geek until he had his eyes repaired and then the girls were all over him."

"Mind you," George reflected. "He might have well as been blind, all he noticed was Quidditch."

Harry gave a laugh, remembering how Quidditch obsessed Oliver had been.

"Well," Fred amended. "All he noticed was Quidditch and Percy."

Harry stared at Fred.

"True," George agreed.

Harry stared at George and raised his eyebrows. Fred and George exchanged a look at Harry's bug-eyed expression and laughed. Harry pulled a face and stood up.

"I'm… I'm not hungry," he said quickly. "You're all freaking me out too much to eat."

Lee Jordan, who had quietly being listening to the exchanges nodded sympathetically.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it by seventh year," he said sympathetically, with a cheeky grin at the sixth year.

"I severely doubt that," Harry said weakly, tossing the three trainee teachers a small smile and heading out of the hall. He refused to acknowledge Hermione and Ron's presence as he stormed passed them, meticulously ignoring the mock cat-call Seamus gave him and he stomped out. Not before noticing that Draco was now absent from the hall as well. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Harry caught sight of the blond hurrying away from the hall.

"Hey… Draco," Harry called softly. The blond stopped in his tracks, turning around from the spot. Harry didn't imagine the smile that immediately graced Draco's face and he felt dizzy for a moment. Crikey. This whole thing was affecting him more than he thought it would. Damn.

In his musings, Harry had missed the fact that Draco had padded up to him.

"I was just on my way to see Professor Sprout to get the homework," he explained softly. "I don't have anyone who would have gotten it for me," he added softly. Something in his tone made Harry's heart thud painfully against his ribs and he actually felt sorry for the arrogant Slytherin.

"I'll just get it from Hermione in the morning," Harry said softly. A queer look of almost jealousy flashed over Draco's face and Harry held up a hand. "I'll give you a copy of it. We'll still have Sunday to do whatever it is."

Draco looked surprised, as if no one had offered anything like that to him before. "I…" He smiled softly. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry blinked at the thanks and realised he'd started to blush. "I… uh… anytime," he stammered out quickly.

Draco's quiet reply surprised him. "Do you… No…"

"Go on," Harry commanded softly, intrigued.

"Do you really mean that?" Draco asked quietly, almost subdued.

Harry smiled suddenly, a sudden weight felt like it had been released from him. "Of course I do. Anytime. That's what friends are for, right?"

Draco stared at Harry, comprehension washing over him and something changed imperceptibly – his whole viewpoint on his world yet again moved and changed and shifted slightly. "Friends?" He asked hollowly.

"Yes. Friends," Harry repeated firmly.

Draco smiled experimentally. "I like that idea," he said firmly, holding out his hand. "Shake on it?"

This time Harry moved his hand forward and grasped hold of the pale offered hand. "No promises made, no conditions enforced," Harry said lightly. "Friends."

Draco felt a little light-headed as he let go of Harry's hand.

"Is this what friendship feels like?" He asked wonderingly. Harry nodded.

"Yes."

"Then I'm sorry it took so long," Draco said gently, truthfully.

"So am I," Harry agreed.

They were shook out of their 'moment' by a breathless Professor Dumbledore arrived, panting, from one of the corridors.

"Just the boys I wanted to see!" He exclaimed. Harry and Draco exchanged a glance, eyebrows raised.

-----

"So let me get this straight," Draco said flatly. Dumbledore had ushered them into an empty classroom and had explained the tricky situation to them in no uncertain terms. "You need a distraction so you can smuggle some Vampires into Hogwarts? Are you crazy?"

Harry nudged Draco in the elbow quickly. "Draco, you can't talk like that! What's so wrong with Vampires anyway?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "In the conflict with Voldemort, they were all on his side." He paused. "They killed my sister," he added softly.

Tears of compassion immediately came to Harry's eyes and he quickly blinked them away.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly. "I didn't know."

Draco shrugged, biting his lip and looking away.

"This is different, Mr. Malfoy, would I suggest something as dangerous as you think that I'm suggesting?" Professor Dumbledore asked, hands on hips. "What I am asking you is necessary. The school is sealed by magic to stop the deatheaters coming in, and the only place magical creatures of any sort can get through is the main hall's gates! I need to get these vampires in through the main hall without the student body or teachers noticing. It's imperative we get them to the pre-arranged spot or else the world could be destroyed. I know it's a lot to ask, but have you ever heard of the order of the Cantial?"

Both Harry and Draco shook their heads.

"They are an order of Vampires devoted to human life, they eat only off animals the same as you or I," Dumbledore persuaded softly. "Would I ask if it wasn't necessary?"

"No, he wouldn't," Harry said softly, looking at Draco. "Come on. What do you say?"

"Fine," Draco said, a sudden smirk playing across his face. "Fancy getting kicked in again Harry?"

Harry blinked then immediately caught onto the idea. Professor Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"I don't want you being hurt doing this –" he said quickly.

"Oh we won't Professor," Draco said hurriedly.

"Not too much," Harry reassured.

Professor Dumbledore took a deep breath and wondered what he'd got everyone into.

-----

"Are you ready?" Draco asked Harry. Harry nodded, testing the balance of the wooden pole in his hand.

"I'm ready," Harry said, adjusting his grip on the pole.

"Let's get ready to rumble, then," Draco said softly. "You sure you want to be the one to—"

"Yes I'm sure," Harry snapped. "Come on then, Dragon, hit me!"

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "As the fair lady commands."

He raised the weapon and smacked it into Harry's. The supple boy raised his pole in time to clash with Draco's, but the force pushed him backwards and through the doors of the hall. There was complete shock as the entire student body turned and looked at the results of the commotion. Harry leapt to his feet, snarling, and proceeded to use the pole to great effect, swinging and twirling it. The pole made some heavy contact with Draco's as the door sparred with the weapons and generally made use of them to the best of their limited ability.

"Sick 'em, Harry!" Harry heard Seamus yelling across the crowd. Some of the Hufflepuffs had started to form a kind of ring around them and Ernie Macmillan was leading the chanting.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Harry swung with all his strength at Draco's pole and the other wooden pole shattered in half from the sudden concentrated power. Draco growled and threw the two halves to the side (closely missing Padma Patil) and suddenly grabbed hold of Harry's pole. There was a sudden brief skirmish for the pole which ended as the battle ended with the second pole being broken. Harry moved backwards, keeping a wary eye on the entrance. Figures completely covered in black cloaks were being ushered around the edge of the hall surreptitiously but from as much as he could gather they were getting all the attention. Harry noticed Draco had observed this too and they both strove to keep the interest away from the cloaked figures.

Harry brought up all his strength and tackled Draco to the ground. Suddenly it had all degenerated into some kind of cat fight again. Harry was slightly aware that some of the teachers were moving to put an end to it and managed to grab hold of one of the halves of Draco's broken pole. Flinging it, the blond Slytherin managed to narrowly miss cracking Harry's head into a table leg. Harry was slightly aware that the pole had crashed into Professor Snape, knocking the Potions master out cold. He was sure he'd have to pay for the consequences later. 

Oh well, the end justifies the means or something like that, Harry thought wildly. The fight reminded Harry of something briefly and realised that the mindless rolling and hitting was reminiscent of last Friday's skirmish. Thinking quickly he reacted as Draco grabbed his other wrist and used his body to wrench it so that he was on top. He grabbed Draco's free wrist with his free hand. He moved his head down to gently whisper something in Draco's ear.

"Grab my wrist," he said almost mockingly, his grip tightening on Draco's wrist possessively. Draco's eyes widened and he realised that Harry had guessed his subterfuge. "Friends don't lie to each other," he added, hissing before savagely releasing Draco's wrist and storming away noticing inattentively that the Vampires had been admitted into Hogwart's safely. Thank goodness for that, Harry thought softly, moving away out of the hall without a further word and without a further glance.

He'd just have to deal with the consequences later.

-----


	3. Predilection for Half-truths

Title: Dungeons and Distractions v2.0 

Author: Mizzy 

E-mail: mizzy_2k@yahoo.co.uk 

Rating: PG-13 

Homepage: 

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

Summary: "_Grab my wrist!"_ Midnight martial arts, invisible kissing at midnight, and Professor Dumbledore trying to smuggle in illegal immigrants? What's a boy to do in a mixed-up muddle of a mixed-up world? 

-----

Part Three - "A Predilection of Half-Truths"

-----

**Predilection **

_predi-lek-shen _

**n. **favourable prepossession of mind, preference 

"What the hell just happened?"

That seemed to be the general summation for the last few minutes in the hall. Draco stumbled to his feet, holding his head as stars danced across his vision and he blinked around blurredly – only slightly aware when Professor McGonagall grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the hall – leaving the students to deal with the events and their own explanations. Draco winced as the forthright teacher yanked him into the nearest classroom and performed a quick silencing charm on the walls.

"What on earth do you think you were doing? In all my time… I've never seen everything so frankly stupid in my entire life! Professor Snape is unconscious, I wouldn't be surprised if he'll want you both excluded after this stunt, I have no idea what it was about, but –"

Draco held up a hand to quickly interrupt the raving transfiguration teacher, wincing as he realised he must have been hurt more than he thought he had from the scuffle in the hall. Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed at the interruption.

"It was for Professor Dumbledore," the blond said quietly, holding his hand to his head, sure that a new crimson bruise was blossoming across his cheek again. Professor McGonagall's mouth snapped shut and her eyes widened.

"Oh," she said quietly. "I had no idea they'd got in."

Draco grinned cheekily. "Then the distraction worked perfectly. Can I go now then?"

"I…" The frank admission had completely startled Professor McGonagall and her mouth snapped shut. "You do realise the rest of the school will be informed of your punishment…" At Draco's horrified stare she smiled softly. "Relax, Mr. Malfoy, you will only have to turn up at the appointed place, not do any work." She paused reflectively. "I should have known Albus would pull something like this. Anyway, I advise you to catch Mr Potter, get yourselves back to the infirmary – my, you two seem to spending an awful lot of time there recently – and inform him the detention will take place at eight o' clock in my office." Professor McGonagall turned away and flicked her wand, dispelling the silence charm. "You may go now."

Draco nodded, briskly turning and walking away. Minerva watched him go, a soft smile playing on her lips. She should have guessed Albus had something to do with the stunt in the hall… As usual, it had worked. She hadn't even known that the order of Cantial had successfully entered Hogwarts. Quickly forcing her lips into a stern line, she swept out of the room, trying to look suitably stern – just as she would be if what had happened in the hall had been any normal fight. She figured she'd better be there when Severus woke up, else all hell would literally break loose.

-----

Outside, Draco stormed past a group of giggling Ravenclaws without taking a second glance at him. Seeming to know instinctively where he was going, he turned up the stairway on the left, took a right and found himself on the corridor leading outside to Hagrid's hut. Sighing, he moved forwards – guessing Harry had gone to see Hagrid – and was completely shocked when a hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

Yelping in surprise, Draco flushed uncomfortably when he realised who it was. "Harry – wait, I can explain," he said softly, without looking at the person who had hold of him. Harry released his arm gently and moved so he was next to Draco. Mechanically, they began walking along the corridor, gazes fixed straight ahead.

"What did McGonagall say?" Harry asked, his tone flat and free of emotion.

Draco swallowed, unused to the devoid nature of the slender Gryffindor walking noiselessly beside him. "She… We have detention, eight o' clock in her office."

Harry let out an almost inaudible sigh. "Typical. That's the last time I try and help anyone."

Silence fell as they continued along the corridors, following twists and turns that as usual in Hogwarts changed so that the entire place was a myriad maze of corridors, staircases and rooms that were only found in certain phases of the moon. Draco felt a blush rising of its own accord and he stopped suddenly, looking down at his feet. He was quietly aware that the other had stopped and was now looking at him. Draco raised his eyes defiantly, ash-grey eyes clashing with bright green in a battle of wills in which Draco lost almost immediately. He looked away, fighting the burning in his cheeks and eyes.

"Why did you lie?" Harry asked finally, his voice hushed and doubtful.

Draco shrugged mutely before realising that answer would never be accepted, not by the firebrand that was asking the question. He raised his eyes again, noticing the intense bottle-green eyes trained on his own and he held down the burning desire to flee or drown in them forever. "I was scared."

Harry closed his eyes at the brusque whispered admission, letting the words float over him. Opening them again he stared flatly at the blond, a sudden spark lighting his eyes – whether it was disgust, recognition or some other mysterious emotion Draco wasn't sure. "Thank you," Harry said simply, abruptly turning and wordlessly leading the too-familiar way to the infirmary.

Madame Pomfrey wasn't too overjoyed to see the two young men hovering at the doorway. In fact, she looked entirely displeased at seeing Draco but brightened on seeing Harry.

"You two again," she sighed, taking in the surface injuries and shaking her head. "Come on in. You'll be pleased to know I've already treated Professor Snape. He'll be just fine. You may be equally pleased to know he doesn't remember how he got knocked out. Professor McGonagall said simply it was an accident." Her eyes narrowed. "However, I know with you two, nothing is ever an accident. I swear Professor Dumbledore is a bad example on his students, but no-one listens to reason nowadays." She regarded them with a stern glance. "Well? Go and sit down then so I can treat you!"

Startled, both Harry and Draco quickly sat down on the seats and watched as the nurse bustled around, finally picking up a couple of small blue tubes. She handed them over and Draco looked at the tube, noticing only the lettering on the side 'Savalon.'

"Savalon?" Draco frowned at the words. "Is this some new kind of medicinal thing?"

"It's kind of a muggle medicine," Harry cut in. "You rub it on any cuts and it acts as an Antiseptic to stop your blood getting poisoned. It's perfectly safe and works well."

Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Sometimes the physical, muggle remedies work better than magic ever could. Now go on, get out of here before I have to throw you out."

Harry smiled charmingly at the nurse. "Thanks for this, Madame Pomfrey."

Madame Pomfrey blushed and looked at her feet before lifting her gaze and flatly staring at them. "Out."

-----

Harry stared at the tube of Savalon in his hands, remembering the time that he cut his head open when he was seven and his Aunt Petunia had literally covered his head in the white, smelly antiseptic cream. Dudley wouldn't go near him for a few days, claiming he stunk out the house. Harry let himself smile briefly. He had rather stunk out the cramped space of 4 Privet Drive. Mind you, the smell had also not left his cupboard for a good couple of months later. He suspected Dudley might have had something to do with that, but without appropriate evidence it couldn't be proved.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked. Harry figured out he must have seen the sudden smile on his face.

"I was just remembering something about this stuff," Harry said shortly, frowning. "Hey, aren't you going to be all offended because you have to use something that's made by muggles?"

"Martial arts were made up by muggles, if I recall, and I do that without complaining." Draco cocked his head. "Well, without complaining much."

Harry laughed but had to agree with the small distinction. "If you hadn't have added that much I was going to firmly remind you of the first time Professor Trelawney told us that's what we were going to learn." He paused and put on a high, mocking voice. "'That, I can't do that sort of muggle thing!'"

"Oh shut up," Draco remarked, giving Harry a playful shove. Harry laughed and let the shove pass, noticing that in this last fight that Draco had sustained most of the injuries. "You know what," the Slytherin added.

"What?" Harry asked, frowning as he turned to regard the blonde.

"No, I was asking if you know what what is," Draco said, grinning toothily. Harry groaned and made to deck him around the head until Draco ducked. "No, seriously… I've forgotten what I was going to say." Draco stopped in the middle of the corridor and managed to look pretty distraught. "I'm never like that! I never forget what I'm going to say!" He leveled a glare at Harry. "It's all your fault!"

Harry took one exasperated look at Draco and vehemently pretended to smack his head on the wall. "Argh! Why do you always say that!"

"Because it's the truth?" Draco tried, then something flashed across his face which he covered up quickly again. Harry started to be a bit frightened of the sudden transition and he swallowed. Draco looked at Harry pensively. "It is your fault –" Draco repeated firmly, his throat going dry. Harry raised an eyebrow and waited for at least a rational response. "I mean –" Draco closed his eyes, trying to put it all into words. He opened them again finally, dull grey eyes silently settling on the view out one of the windows. "I mean – I can't think straight when I'm around you."

Harry blinked at the startlingly frank confession and he nodded slowly.

"Well?" Draco protested.

Harry's wrenched his gaze up off the floor to look at Draco perplexedly. "Well what?" He asked, not trusting himself to say anything more.

"Are you going to apologise or what?"

Harry just blinked at the blond before shaking his head in vexation before a sudden thought struck him. "Are we really going to have to do detention tonight?" Harry pulled a face. "Because that would suck," he added plaintively.

Draco nodded. "Yes." At Harry's slow incredulous look he laughed. "OK, OK, we have to pretend we are, but we don't have to do anything."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. I hate being punished for doing the right thing."

"We still don't know if it was the right thing," Draco said suddenly, strangely thoughtful. Harry fell silent, not meeting the others gaze. Draco grinned impishly and Harry was scared for a moment. "So? Where's my apology?"

Harry groaned and started to stalk off. The blond had not changed one bit at all.

-----

"I don't know what's happening to me." The words were frank and spoken with complete sincerity. "I mean, one minute we're the worst enemies, I mean we can't stop fighting, but the next moment we're talking like we've been friends forever." 

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry flatly as the raven-haired boy looked up at the sky. The three were outside, lying on the grass and cloud-watching. 

"Well, you have to admit, he is a complete moron," Ron offered. "Mind you, I think that very possibly you're the one person in this world you could calm him down and make him into some sort of rational human being." 

"There's one that looks like Pig," Hermione offered quickly. Ron and Harry quickly stared up in the direction she was pointing, noticing the small round-ish shaped cloud. 

"That doesn't look like a pig," Harry said, squinting at it. Hermione decked him in the stomach. 

"Pig… As in Pigwigeon…" Hermione explained slowly, rolling her eyes. Ron laughed and Harry scowled at him. 

"It's the lack of glasses. It's affecting his brain," Ron offered sagely. 

"Or all the bludgers to the head," Hermione added. 

"Or all the times Pig's clouted him in the head," Ron suggested. 

"Or all these fights you're getting into with Malfoy," Hermione said, shrugging. 

"Draco," Harry corrected automatically, then he flushed. "This could only happen to me, couldn't it!" 

Ron patted his friend's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry. We're already saving up so we can afford the funeral." 

"Ha, ha," Harry said flatly, scowling and turning back to the sky. "Hey, there's a cloud that looks like Seamus," he exclaimed brightly as the sandy-haired boy clouded his vision. Seamus looked down at Harry, perplexed, before sitting down cross-legged next to the three Gryffindors on their backs gazing at the sky. Harry frowned as Seamus waved his hands over his eyes. 

"Grab my wri-ist," Seamus sang quietly and Harry suddenly got to his feet, rolling his eyes when Hermione and Ron didn't even notice his departure. 

"What's this about?" Harry asked, looking at Seamus as they quickly crossed the lawn. 

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you," the sandy haired boy explained. "Something about that fight you had with Malfoy?" Seamus gave a little frown. "What was _with _that fight yesterday, then?" 

Harry gave a small shrug as they dodged a crowd of chattering first years that stopped chattering instantly as they recognised the tall, serious looking sixth year that had brushed past them. Seamus snorted derisively. 

"Seamus…" Harry warned gently, rolling his eyes to the sky. 

Seamus stifled a laugh and quickly continued under Harry's quailing stare. "He told me to tell you he'll meet you outside the entrance to his office. I'm going to presume you know where that is." 

Harry nodded. "I've been there _more _than enough times," he said morosely. 

"Oy, Seamus!" 

Both Harry and Seamus looked up to see Dean and Neville waving to the Irish wizard and Seamus tipped Harry a wink before starting to run off. 

"And this is where I leave you," Seamus called softly, leaving Harry to chuckle and re-enter the main building. 

"Thanks Seamus," Harry muttered fiercely to himself as he jogged up the stairs and padded along the corridors to where Professor Dumbledore's office was situated. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a familiar nonchalant figure lounging against the wall, examining his fingernails and looking extremely bored. He unconsciously slowed and took a deep breath, quietly approaching the gargoyle. 

"Harry," Draco greeted quietly, without looking up. 

"Draco," Harry returned, trying to keep his tone level as his treacherous brain started to run away with him… The kiss had been _so _nice… He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like in daylight… Shaking his head furiously Harry tried to get his thoughts back in complete order as he lounged against the wall a little distance away from the smirking Slytherin. 

"Did you know we're not the only one to have been getting different tuition?" Draco asked suddenly. Harry blinked, not knowing how to answer the question as he didn't _get _the question in the first place. 

"Well, you know, we have General Studies on Saturday afternoons… And according to the general rumours in the common room, in the lessons we have on Saturday Afternoons, another sort of skill is taught," Draco said, still lazily examining his fingernails. 

"Really?" Harry thought this over, thinking that that _was_ something that the Hogwarts professors would do… "Have you any idea what those classes are?" 

"Apparantly the Arithmancy students are learning how to cook _muggle style, _I really don't see the point in that. Potions students are learning war strategies. Transfiguration, logic problems. Study of ancient runes, they're learning fisticuffs or something like that. Mind you, as far as I know, they're all only getting one lesson a week while we're getting like _five…_ Totally not fair, of course," Draco drawled, now inspecting the floor. 

Harry raised his eyebrows as he thought it over. "Well, what _we _do requires more training… Does anyone know what we do?" 

Draco laughed humourlessly. "The rumour about the Divinations students is needlework. I'm not about to correct them, though, I kind of get the impression what we do is supposed to be kept quiet." 

Harry nodded, his eyes distant as he tapped his toes against the floor. "So do I… But _cooking _muggle style? Why would that be useful unless…" Harry stopped as a hideous thought suddenly struck him, clouding his brain and make his entire world stop for a second. He put out one hand to steady himself and was aware of Draco now hovering somewhere near his elbow - looking very concerned. 

"Unless?" Draco prompted. 

Harry's brow creased and his eyes darkened as he thought about the prospect, the idea gaining for validity with every passing second. "Unless Professor Dumbledore thinks that, some time in the future, Hogwarts may be without the use of magic." 

The whispered words didn't have quite the effect that Harry had almost hoped. Draco stared at him, bewildered. 

"But Hogwarts could _never _be without magic, how could that –" 

Harry sighed in frustration and leaned backwards. Trust _Malfoy _to be this dim about it all. "I don't know, perhaps there's some way to block magic or something…" 

Draco suddenly gasped, his mouth dropping open. 

"See, that would be a _bad _thing," Harry said very slowly. Draco nodded. 

"I heard my father mention something like that once," Draco said softly, his tone troubled. His gaze fixed somewhere beyond Harry and the black-haired Gryffindor suspected he was finding it hard to remember what had exactly been said. "Something about… an object that can suppress all magic in a limited compact area, and trap everyone inside it… But the thing about it is that it stops _all _magic, meaning that once it is used even the caster can't use magic." Draco's gaze slid to Harry's, he was obviously horrified. "Harry, that could be completely _drastic_, I mean Hogwarts would be completely unprotected…" 

"Not completely," Harry broke in, his steadfast gaze disturbed. "But he must know Professor Dumbledore would go to some means to protect Hogwarts from within just in case it happened, so he must have found something that would work without magic to attack us too…" 

"Well that settles it then," Draco said firmly. "We _have _to increase our efforts… We _can't _let him win." 

Harry nodded and drummed his fingertips against his palm, looking pensieve before twisting around. "Where _is _he?" 

Draco looked flabbergasted for a second. "I don't know! If I knew then it would all be a lot easier!"

"Huh?" Harry frowned, then his eyes widened and he laughed. "I meant _where's Professor Dumbledore?_" 

Ruffled, Draco pouted. "That's what I was talking about too," he said quickly, before looking away. Harry stared at him in bewilderment. 

"But if you –" 

"Ah, Harry, Draco, sorry to have taken so long. I had a quite interesting chat with Professor Trelawney and couldn't get out earlier. I'm so glad you got my messages," Professor Dumbledore said, beaming at the two boys. He turned to the gargoyle and frowned for a second. 

"Please don't tell me you've forgotten your password, sir," Draco said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and looking impatient. "_Honestly."_ Professor Dumbledore managed to look quite abashed. 

"Oh… Uh… _Fizzing Whizbees_," the absent-minded Professor suddenly declared. Draco and Harry stumbled back as the gargoyle sprung into life and swung by to let them in. As they quickly followed the Professor up the narrow passages and stairs to his office, Draco winced as the gargoyle sprung shut behind them. 

"What did you want us for?" Harry asked conversationally as they made their way up the winding passage. 

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "I thought you wouldn't mind meeting some of the people you helped in the hall. Especially one of them, Mr. Malfoy." 

Draco looked completely perplexed and as they stood outside of the office Harry looked at hi questioningly. Draco shrugged, confounded. As the door opened, though, and they stepped inside Draco's heart leapt into his mouth and he spun on his feet as one of the vampires rose to her feet, fair hair shining and skin as pale and as white as milk. 

"Rebecca!" Draco said softly, looking complete staggered. 

The fair haired vampire curtseyed. Harry noticed that she couldn't have been more than six years old and watched in astonishment as she crossed the soft carpeted floor and hugged Draco firmly, whispering a greeting in his ear which everyone heard none-the-less. 

"Hello brother." She cocked her head to one side and stared up at him. "It's been a while." 

"Indeed," Draco responded, his voice guarded and eyes widened with shock. Then he turned to Professor Dumbledore and Harry with a strange look on his face. Harry noticed that the blond's fists were clenched and that he was finding it hard to speak. "Somebody," he said slowly, his tone low as he hissed at them, "better explain things to me. And fast." 

Professor Dumbledore nodded slowly. "And an explanation will come," he said slowly. "Soon." 

"Better be soon," Draco hissed, his arms folded and his face an expressionless mask. "I want to know what the _hell_ is going on, or… or… or…" He looked desperate, as if the tiniest little thing would send him spinning off into chaos. "Or else I may end up doing something I will later regret," he said finally, his voice sounding small in the tiny office. 


	4. Extispicy

Title: Dungeons and Distractions v2.0 

Author: Mizzy 

E-mail: mizzy_2k@yahoo.co.uk 

Rating: PG-13 

Homepage: ; 

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

Summary: "_Grab my wrist!"_ Midnight martial arts, invisible kissing at midnight, and Professor Dumbledore trying to smuggle in illegal immigrants? What's a boy to do in a mixed-up muddle of a mixed-up world? 

-----

Part Four - "Extispicy"

-----

Fred and George Weasley were not mischievous by nature alone. Nurture was a great contributor to their growing up. Growing up in a hectic and close household, with very little to distinguish yourself from close siblings, it had been a constant struggle for the identical twins to earn their individuality. 

And earn it they had. 

After their legendary escape from Hogwarts, Fred and George had taken a secret course over the summer sanctioned and taught by Professor Dumbledore, alongside their friend and confidante, Lee Jordan. They had told no one what had happened, but it must have been something huge, for a large scar haunted Fred Weasley's face and all three were invariably found huddled together discussing things. Of course, partly it was because of the twins' joke shop, but other times it was something a little more... sensitive.

Professor Dumbledore had waved off their sixth year escape, placing them in seventh year. What they had learned over the summer holiday had obviously more than made up for the schooling they had missed.

The prospect of going back to school had, at first, daunted the twins, but return they did. Smiling and back up to their wicked tricks, the three returned to the Gryffindor life with barely a crack. Fred and George spent the first few weeks of the term making up for not pranking Ginny, making sure they pranked her as often and as loudly as they could, repeatedly in front of Slytherins, if it was at all possible. Ginny would turn redder than her hair, and run to Ron and Harry, demanding help from the infamous sixth year. 

The last time that had happened, Harry had taken them aside and put delicately that the "mysterious benefactor for their Weasley Wheezes enterprise might get angry and remove the balls of said enterprise company managers" if anything like that happened again. 

Ginny now basked under a twin-free term, as they mostly get out of her hair, and all the Gryffindor table had to put up with their loud and lascivious gags. Oh, and getting turned into a crocodile or aardvark once in a while as new products were summarily tested on the house. 

More often than not, the bizarre explosions took place at the teachers' table or at the Slytherins' table. 

The three were secretly training for the position of Dark Arts Defence teacher. Together. Dumbledore had figured the only way to break the curse was to stop feeding it fuel. Three people were hard to get rid of, even if they were simultaneously running a successful magic tricks enterprise at the same time. 

Fred scratched his nose, and grinned at George, who shuffled a bit to the left and waited with a small white bag in his left hand. It was much easier to tell the twins apart now from the silvery scar that ran down Fred's left cheek identifying him as different to George, and was a result of an encounter with a Manticore in the Alps. The deities knew how they escaped, but escape they did, and now the twins had more practical Defence against the Dark Arts experience than the last six teachers respectively. 

"One sixth year making their way down the hallway," George whispered, mock-prissily. "Draco Malfoy."

"Stupid prick," Fred muttered. 

"Wait, another sixth year. It's Harry," George muttered, edging closer to the peephole. "Looks like they're arguing." 

"Aw, young love." Fred smiled. "Those two might be the perfect targets." 

George nodded. "One, two, three!" 

On the count of three, they pushed the portrait open and jumped forwards. George took aim and threw the white bag at them. It hit Draco, covered the startled Slytherin in bright purple dust. Harry stumbled back, before casting a scandalized glance at the twins. 

"What the hell did you do that for!" 

Fred and George exchanged a worried glance. Then Fred's mouth dropped open. 

"Oh no, you're dating him, right?" Fred slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I com_plete_ly forgot." Fred fudged over the lie quickly with the grace of a lifetime's practise. "Harry, I'm so sorry!" 

Harry cast a scandalized glance at him, hands akimbo as he watched the purple cloud start to disperse into the air. It cleared to leave a frog, sitting on the ground and blinking up at them with large, startled, silvery eyes. 

"We're not dating," Harry snapped impatiently at the twins as he bent down to examine the frog. "It's just a vicious rumour that's all Professor Trelawney's fault, isn't mine at all, I do not have any fricking feelings for him and I'd thank you not to think I do, and not spread any more rumours because I'm not dating him, I don't even like him at all! This whole thing is so bloody crazy!" 

Fred opened his mouth to apologise, when George gasped suddenly and elbowed Harry sharply in the ribs. 

"You're babbling," George informed Harry. Harry looked up, his shock of midnight hair tumbling over his eyes and a jolt of emotion flitted through the green depths hidden behind the hair. "And we never said anything about emotion or feelings." 

"That was you," Fred added helpfully. 

Harry could only stare wordlessly for a few seconds. 

"How long does this last?" Looking away, Harry mumbled the question. 

"Ten minutes," George replied softly, watching as Harry picked up the frog/Draco and carried it gingerly in his hands, not saying a single words as he walked unsurely back the way he'd come from. 

Fred stared mutely at his twin for several long seconds, and George stared back. Both were sure they'd witnessed some kind of transition, but whether it had been them or Harry they couldn't determine even years later. 

---- 

Professor Dumbledore looked up, sharply, as the door crashed open. The _Order, _huddled into some kind of group by his wall looked up, shocked. 

Harry stalked forwards, ignoring the surprised glances of the pale-skinned vampires watching him from the side. He brought his hands forwards, and dropped something on it. Dumbledore blinked owlishly as he peered forwards, eyes clouded over in thought as he observed the frog that belched loudly and stared back at the headmaster. 

Perplexed, Dumbledore moved back and fixed Harry with a piercing gaze. "Excuse me, Harry, but are you okay? What's this frog got to do with… anything?" 

Harry frowned, folding his arms and narrowing his gaze dangerously at the frog. "You know how ten minutes ago Draco stormed out of here because you couldn't give him a satisfactory answer?" 

Dumbledore coughed. "I.. Well, Harry… The answer would take a while to completely relay. Draco didn't stay here long enough to hear it…" 

Harry shrugged. "Well, he's here now." 

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but whatever he was trying to say was masked in the small explosion. A purple cloud suddenly surrounded his desk, and there was a clatter as the wary vampires pushed backwards, trying to get away from the strange explosion. 

Moments later, the cloud had dispersed, and Dumbledore was sat wide-eyed in his chair, staring at Draco. The blond was perched on the end of the desk, eyes clouded over and expressions confused and bewildered. 

"What in the --" Draco snapped his mouth shut and quickly scrambled off the desk. 

"The twins," Dumbledore said hollowly, his voice cracking in sudden realization. 

Draco narrowed his eyes and turned his back, folding his arms in an unconscious mirror of Harry's position. "I'll kill them," he said quietly. 

"Draco, if you'd just _listen…_" 

Draco turned, his expression turning quickly again to disgust at the white, shimmering blonde who was looking up at him with pleading silvery eyes. 

"Get the hell away from me!" Eyes widened, and breathing ragged, Draco screamed at the top of his voice, before collapsing to the ground, a mess of shaking, tangled limbs. "Get away from me." His voice grew weaker, trailing to a last desperate sob. "Please." 

Rebecca turned her head away, burying it with a shaken gasp in the black taffeta clothing of the shortest of the Order of Cantial, obviously the leader by her almost regal bearing. "I told you he'd hate me, Esmerelda," the blond vampire whispered, her hands curled into fists. She smashed her fists against Esmerelda, collapsing against the dark-haired vampire desperately. "I told you." 

Esmerelda didn't say anything, just pulled the girl closer and raised her eyes pleadingly to the heavens. 

"I don't." 

The aching, embarassing silence was broken by the soft whisper. Rebecca turned, tears decorating her cheeks making it seem like she was pure silver as she glowed in the firelight. Draco lifted his head, blond hair heavy against his cheeks, plastered with tears. Harry moved unconsciously to do what he didn't exactly know, but he was stopped by a restraining arm from Dumbledore 

'_When did _he_ move?' _Harry wondered as he helplessly watched the scene. 

Dragging himself to his feet, Draco looked at the blonde vampire slowly. "I never hated you, Rebecca. I… Just can't accept that you… That you left me…" 

Rebecca looked away. "I'm sorry, Draco. You have to understand, though. The Order of Cantial saved what was left of me to save. It is better that I am here now so I can help save _you _rather than I had died that day ten years ago." 

Draco nodded slowly. "I see your logic, but…"

"But?" 

"I don't have to like it," the blond said firmly, his gaze lifting up challengingly to Esmerelda's gaze this time. "You may have meant well, vampire, and I hope that this all works out, because else your non-life will not be worth living." 

Esmerelda nodded, dark eyes alight with understanding. "I will protect her as my own," she said firmly, one arm on Rebecca's shoulder. Draco nodded stiffly, his pose that of a defeated man. Rebecca moved forwards slightly, one hand slightly extended towards Draco and the blond flinched. 

"Don't even think of touching me, Elegeia Rebecca Malfoy," Draco snapped. The harsh words showed instantly on the young girl's face, but Draco turned away unaware. If he did notice, it didn't show. 

There was a slight cough from the corner, and they all turned to see Professor Dumbledore, his expression soft and unreadable. "Draco, Harry, I do not need to inform you again that this is a secret. No one must find out about the Order of the Cantial. It's imperative." 

Draco looked at Harry, then at Dumbledore. "You have our word," he said simply, moving to the door and leaving abruptly. Harry watched him leave, his face a blank mask as he turned and walked over to Esmerelda. She blanched involuntarily as he leaned in, green eyes narrowed dangerously at her. 

"Don't even think of breaking your promise," he said abruptly, turning on his heel and exiting the cramped office. 

"Albus, are you sure those two won't tell anyone?" A formidable looking female vampire near the back, with longish blond hair and striking features, looked across at Dumbledore, but was interrupted by Esmerelda snapping a hand around her wrists. 

"Shut the hell up, Therese," Esmerelda snapped. "Those two have given up a hell of a lot for us already." 

"And will have to give up a hell of a lot more," Rebecca added, her voice barely audible as she stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace. Esmerelda's eyes softened, and she squeezed the slender girl to her as they all stared off into oblivion, contemplating the future tomorrow would bring. 

----- 

If there was something, some kind of supernatural evil being, that inhabited the fiery pits of hell, then Draco wished that it would come and take him away. Or take McGonagall away, who had subjected him to this torture. 

They weren't given detention, all right, but they were forced to stand outside her office. For two hours. It wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been the busiest hallway in school. Barely two minutes would pass, and some students would walk past, sniggering at their predicament. 

Thankfully some small respite came a short time before the ordeal was due to be over. Hermione and the Weasel came to talk to Harry, and Draco had to admit, their animated chatting and gossiping brought a restful respite from the recent hectic activities. 

"Of course, you missed it in herbology," Ron was laughing, his cheeks flushed. Draco folded his arms and tried to pretend he wasn't listening. "Professor Snape came by to ask Professor Sprout for some dried Arcanthia root, and he accidentally bumped into the baby Devil's Snare we've been cross-breeding with the Venusian Spider traps! Professor Snape ending up being carted off to the infirmary, suffering from near-asphyxiation from where it grabbed him round the neck, and he has huge bite marks down his arm!" 

Harry laughed a little as he leant against the wall, smiling at his two friends. Draco watched him, and the sudden thought that hearing Harry laugh wasn't such a bad thing, more like one of those things that makes your spine tingle and the hair on the back of your neck rise up, shocked him possibly more than anything else that day. 

Not only was Harry the only one who could get under his skin like that, into his psyche, the little bastard was making him be sentimental over tiny, inconsequential things. 

Oh _crap._

He looked up, startled, from a jab in the ribs by Ron. The grinning redhead had poked him in the side with his wand. "I heard my brothers froggerized you today." 

_Huh?_

"Froggerized?" Draco blinked at Ron, completely and utterly confused. 

"Froggerized," Hermione repeated slowly, enunciating each symbol carefully. Harry laughed lightly, which distracted Draco a little before the blond frowned in confusion. 

"They turned you into a frog," Ron explained. Draco nodded in recognition, then scowled. "Froggerized," the redhead tacked onto the end glibly, as if the word explained everything. 

Draco carefully filed the word away into the little recycle bin at the back of his brain where he put all the stupid words to be stored until they could be pushed out rapidly. 

"Oh, have you two heard the rumour yet?" 

Harry let out a low whistle. "My, my, Hermione Granger. Gossiping like the lowly beings the rest of us are…"

Hermione smiled sweetly at Harry, and sent a two fingered gesture in his direction. Draco gaped. Looked like the Weasleys were a _very _bad influence on the prim and proper Gryffindor genius. 

Harry laughed at the death glare he was getting from Hermione. "No, we haven't heard any rumours." 

"Apart from the Snape and blue paint one," Draco added lightly. Harry elbowed the blond sharply, and Draco surprised everyone (mostly himself) when he didn't react violently. He merely stuck out his tongue at Harry. From the sudden look in Harry's eyes, though, that gesture might have had nearly the same effect as a retaliatory jab or punch. 

"Anyway," Hermione said firmly, glaring at Draco for a second, "there's loads of meat being shipped into the school, more than is usual, anyway. The house elves normally hate meat, they handle it as little as possible - only to serve their _high and mighty masters._" There was more than a little amount of scorn in her voice at those words. "And this meat is being shipped in the form of dead carcasses. That is so strange."

"You'd better file it in the X-Files, Scully," Harry joked lightly. Hermione looked surprised.

"You… Was Dudley an X-Files fan or something?" Hermione looked a little shocked. Draco and Ron wore almost twin expressions of absolute confusion, which made Harry smirk a little. 

"Yes, he was," Harry nodded, grimacing. "It's a good show. It's a bad thing that Dudley got obsessed. I fell asleep every night for six weeks hearing that damned tune." For effect, Harry whistled the X-Files theme. Hermione laughed.

"The twins have set up an illegal pool, with surprisingly good odds that we're all going to be forced to become meatitarians in defiance of muggle vegetarians." Hermione pulled a face. "I don't think the twins get the concept of vegetarianism much. The rumour, though, is that the school has Manticores. Chained up beneath the school. The carcasses are to feed them." 

"Well they're definitely here to feed something," Draco smirked suddenly, pale face twisted in slight amusement. One of Ron's eyebrows quirked upwards, and he and Hermione turned to stare incredulously at Draco. 

"You mean you _know _why the carcasses…" Hermione began. 

"Extispicy," Harry interrupted sharply, folding his arms across his chest and fixing Draco with a heavy glare. Draco's mouth opened, then shut, and then somewhere inside Draco's head a light switched on. 

"Extispicy," Draco repeated, nodding hastily. 

"Extra spicy?" Ron blurted out, looking from Draco to Harry, then back to Draco again. "_What?_" 

"Extispicy," Harry repeated slowly. "It's for the Divinations section of our General Studies OWL. It's the art of ripping open a dead animal and looking at its intestines to predict the future." 

"The ancient Romans used to do it a lot," Draco supplied. "Very popular amongst the muggles as well as the witches and wizards." 

"My, I admire how you put that, Harry," Hermione said, a little shaken. 

Ron looked a little upset. "I knew it was a bad idea not doing General Studies!" 

"Oh, no, it was a _very _good idea," Harry said, laughing a little. 

"Yes," Draco added. "Ripping up animals, smuggling in illegal --oomph!" 

Hermione and Ron stared in complete shock as Draco wasn't allowed to finish his sentence. What was _stopping _Draco from finishing his sentence, or indeed talking in general, was the way Harry had seemingly out of nowhere pushed him up against the wall and was now firmly kissing him. 

Ron and Hermione exchanged a startled glance. 

Draco let out a startled squeak as hot, determined lips claimed his own. He stood there, overwhelmed, helpless for a few long seconds until his brain kicked in. _This is like it was before…_ Warm against him, it was nothing more than Harry's lips pressed to his own, but the rush of warmth that spread through him that danced across his skin and tingled down his spine was enough to tell him that… That this wasn't worth ignoring. 

His brain fuzzy, he barely registered when Harry pulled away, and twisted his head, to see if anyone was around. From the looks of things, Hermione and Ron had run off. Draco's mind was reeling, and he was aware of the dull flush that was colouring his neck and his cheeks. Trying to get his breath back, he glanced up briefly at Harry, who was looking away from him steadfastly. 

"You were going to tell them about _you-know-who_," Harry whispered, still looking away from Draco. 

Draco blinked, startled. "Voldemort?" 

Harry turned suddenly, one eyebrow raised and eyes wide with surprise. "I.. Uh… No… The you-know-whats…" His gaze met Draco's for a moment, and he flinched. Harry was having trouble staying still, and he tapped his fingers against his leg before pulling away with an irritated sigh. 

"If McGonagall returns, tell her I needed to go to the little wizard's room," Harry muttered softly, his back rigid as he stalked away stiffly. 

As Draco watched Harry go, his mind ran over what Harry's meaning had been and he collapsed against the wall in despair. Harry had just kissed him to stop him from being an idiot and telling Hermione and Ron about the vampires, and he'd actually thought Harry had… What? Wanted this? Wanted _him_? 

Wanted him like he wanted Harry? 

----- 

Harry kept his head down. What on earth had he been thinking? It would have been easier for him to cut in, say something witty, and then make sure Hermione and Ron left quickly, but _nooooooo_, he had to do something dumb and mess it all up! 

He felt his cheeks darken, and didn't even notice that he passed Hermione and Ron in the hallway. 

It was all simple. He'd have to avoid Dra-- Malfoy. He'd have to avoid _Malfoy _for the rest of the year, and then, then he was free to do whatever he wished without feeling he was completely losing control. 

"Hello, dear, I thought you'd be passing by right about now." 

Harry stopped still at the silvery voice and turned sharply to see Professor Trelawney, eyes wide and clad in a shimmering blue cloak that swept to the floor. "Had a little incident with Mr. Malfoy?" 

Harry's mouth dropped open. "I… I…" 

Professor Trelawney patted him on the shoulder gently, a hint of a smile on her face. "Come on, come sit with me for a little while," she instructed gently. "We can have a nice cup of tea, and discuss those Occlumency essays due on Tuesday, before we head off to the dungeons for tonight's activities." 

Harry nodded slowly, almost glad of the reprieve, but he felt her curious gaze on him and he sighed. The problem with divination teachers, even ex-divination teachers, and _especially_ with ex-divination teachers who'd had three actual predictions of the future, was that they _did _know way too much about the future. At least there was only an hour to go till tonight's activity… 

His head lurched up despite himself. 

Tonight's activity.

Tonight was Friday. 

Tonight was invisible fighting night. 

Harry sighed bitterly as Professor Trelawney busied herself with a teapot. 

So much for avoiding Draco then. 


	5. Aramantal

Title: Dungeons and Distractions v2.0 

Author: Mizzy 

E-mail: mizzy_2k@yahoo.co.uk 

Rating: PG-13 

Homepage: ; 

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

Summary: "_Grab my wrist!"_ Midnight martial arts, invisible kissing at midnight, and Professor Dumbledore trying to smuggle in illegal immigrants? What's a boy to do in a mixed-up muddle of a mixed-up world? 

-----

Part Five - "Aramantal"

-----

_Dedicated: To goldensummer, who now must love me forever. Hah._

_-----_

Aramantal 

Undying, forever, everlasting 

----- 

Harry approached the night's lessons with a little less vigour than usual. He didn't even say anything in return to Ernie's tentative hello, or Lisa's attempt at conversation, instead preferring to storm down the corridor blindly. He wasn't so mad at Draco any more, that much was for sure. Ten minutes before he was due to head down to the dungeons and the midnight lesson, Harry hit on an epiphany on to who he was mad at. It wasn't even Professor Trelawney.

It was himself. 

This epiphany kept his mind more or less occupied, and he let Trelawney Charm him invisible almost without making the mandatory withering glare he normally made at her as she pranced around in her silvery clothing. It had been the stubborn desire of every student in the sixth year to give Mrs. Norris a sturdy kick, that much was still true, but this desire had increased to wanting to 'accidentally' kicking the snooping moggy into Professor Trelawney and have said teacher fall with the cat down a long set of stairs. Or into an open pit that led to hell. 

Oh, the General Studies class _knew _by now that she was a lot more genuine at predicting the future (and Harry knew this more than the others), but, as always has happened in the course of history, she became despised in the class of "smart arse." It wasn't so much that she was always _constantly _annoying right that was the matter. It was her saccharine falseness and bright colours and occasional dim-witted sentences and more than occasion dumb ideas that drove her class, and the staff, up the wall. 

As Harry began to stumble, invisible, through the doorway into the dungeon room that he normally trained in on Fridays, he resisted the urge to give Professor Trelawney and Sensei Matani a good shove, and instead focussed himself on concentrating. His stomach grumbling suddenly and viciously didn't help him much either. He'd skipped dinner to concentrate on his own problem. 

Sickened at himself, and his own '_me, me, me_' attitude, Harry felt a small movement near his left elbow and lashed out neatly with his left leg. A satisfying thud later, Harry felt a grin widen on his face and the warmth of success blossom, and lifted his leg to kick Draco now he was on the floor. _At my feet_, Harry reflected sunnily. 

"Mr. Potter, please refrain from hitting your opponent when he's down." 

Harry's gaze lurched to the window where Sensei Matani was standing impatiently and looking bored, and winced as he put his foot down. Then he flushed as he realised what had just happened, and he started. 

"Sorry sensei." A sudden grin crossed Harry's face in spite of the churning worry that was currently twisting in his gut. If Matani could _see _them both despite the invisibility Charm… Well, of course it made sense, Harry didn't know why he hadn't considered it before, but… If Matani could, then he would have seen The Kiss. It was definitely an event requiring capitals, even though it wasn't the only kiss that had happened now, but if Matani _had _seen… Harry searched fruitlessly for an adjective to describe the situation, and the only ones he could come up with had four-letters in them and were detention-material. "He does deserve it, though." 

Matani actually chuckled, and from the grunt, Harry knew his opponent was getting up. 

"Bloody well didn't," his opponent grunted, the accent and intonation confirming that it was Draco. There wasn't anybody else it could have been, of course, but Harry liked to have confirmation all the same. It gave him a sense that revenge was definitely essential, and vindication requisite. 

"You bloody well did, Malfoy." 

"I bloody well didn't," Draco instantly protested, surreptitiously rubbing his leg and glancing curiously at Sensei Matani who was looking straight at them. He glanced across to where Harry's voice was coming from to check that the Invisibility Charm was still working. It was. All he could see was white padded walls, and got that thin rush of nausea that this was a room they used to put insane people in… There was the gap where the doorway was, and the large panel window that Matani was currently leaning up against and looking at them through. "Besides," Draco added to overcome the sense of nausea the white walls brought on, "everything is always your fault anyway, Potter." 

Harry resisted the urge to flick a two-fingered insult at the insolent blond, instead he glanced back at Matani. 

"Sensei, can you tell him it isn't my fault?"  
  
Matani frowned. "No. But I give you permission for a free hit with your _bo._" 

Before Draco had time to blink, Harry had hit out with his bo where he figured Draco was from where his voice had come from, and Draco tumbled to the ground. 

"Hey!" 

Draco frowned, massaged his leg for a second before gathering his strength. He leapt to his feet in one swift movement, swiping his bo out to the left. It clashed with Harry's, and the sound of wood and wood filled the air as they were brought up again and again with resounding clashes. 

Harry was having difficulty holding the just-under-six-foot wooden pole. The constant blows from Draco, and the ones he returned, were making the bo vibrate under the strain, and his arms and hands were both aching. Soon all enmity was almost completely forgotten as adrenaline surged and the thirst for blood rose up, an animal instinct, before either could vocalise or even really understand what was going on. Harry felt the sudden thrill of being a predator as he felt Draco weaken, and he decided to end it. Striking Draco's bo full on, the blond was forced to drop it as it shuddered out of his hands, and Harry dropped to one hand, kicking Draco's legs from under him. The Slytherin dropped to the ground for the third time that session, and shimmered visible. 

Shocked, Harry's gaze lurched up to Sensei Matani, but the balding martial arts master was already stunned into action. The door was flung open, and the Sensei rushed in, waving his wand and making Harry visible again. Matani leant over Draco, and felt his pulse, a worried frown on his face. Harry felt panic rise like bile in his throat, and the whole nausea that had lightly been plaguing him all day overwhelmed him. He vomited as Matani checked on Draco, and Harry turned in time to see Matani hoist Draco over his shoulder and look at Harry's mess and then at Harry squarely. 

"You knocked him out," Matani explained to Harry, as Professor Trelawney fluttered into the room on her high heels, looking like an overgrown butterfly. Trelawney gasped, and held her hands to her face at the scene which had distracted from the perfect routine that she had concocted in her own head. "I'll take him up to the infirmary," Matani added, shaking his head in wonder at Harry before striding out of the room. 

Trelawney looked flatly at Harry. Harry was pale and shaking, sweat on his forehead and drenching his hair which was plastered to his forehead. He dropped his bo on the floor, and it clattered to the soft ground. Trelawney watched it fall before looking at Harry, her eyes which were heavily rimmed with mascara open and wide with shock. Harry stared at her, the curiously green shade of his eyes burning into Trelawney's consciousness until it almost blinded her, and she looked away from the burning gaze. 

"Didn't foresee this, did you?" Harry sniffed in disgust, and stalked out of the room angrily. He was disgusted at himself, but Trelawney translated the shock as repulsion at her and she dropped to her knees, wondering what they'd done to Harry. He'd been naïve, open, and_ innocent_ when he'd arrived at Hogwarts and now… Now he was changing, and she wasn't sure as if they'd like what he changed into. 

Thinking quickly, she scrambled to her feet, feeling nauseous from the smell of Harry's physical disgust, and he ran after her student. 

"Harry, wait!" 

At the end of the corridor, Harry turned, his gaze still accusing as he waited for the fragile teacher to catch him up. 

"Yes, _Professor_?" 

"This is all my fault. Our fault. We made you like this." 

Harry stared at Trelawney like she'd grown an extra head. Trelawney resisted the urge to bite her flamboyantly painted fake fingernails, and recognised what had happened in part to Harry. He had a self-assured confidence in herself that she rarely saw in students. Harry was no child, she saw that now. The sixth year was an adult, and had been forced to mature far more rapidly than anyone should have. 

"I won't deny that," Harry replied, his voice calm and cool which scared Trelawney more than if he'd screamed at her. Anger she could deal with, but this Harry - silent and calm, like a predator ready to pounce on his helpless prey - it scared her more than anything. A chill ran along her spine like when she'd had her first ever true prediction. 

When she'd predicted Harry's entrance into the world and how important he may eventually be. A warrior of all that was good and right. 

"When you… came here… You were naïve. Young. Innocent. What happened?" 

Harry snorted derisively as if she was completely stupid. "I grew up." His gaze met hers challengingly. "A lot faster than I was supposed to. I grew up when someone died because of me. Three times it's happened, and I won't let it happen again." He clenched his fists, an unconscious gesture. "I won't," he repeated. He stepped closer to Trelawney then, and she stifled the scream that started to rise in her throat, but instead he squeezed her hand gently. He was much more the adult than she at that moment. "I need you to find something wrong with the augurs. Something fake." 

Startled, Trelawney blinked, not thinking to move her hand. Harry's grip was firm, and her slim hand was turning white. "Wh- what? But there's nothing wrong with--"  
  
"I know that." Harry looked at her again, and Trelawney knew he was no student any more. Not a child, but a warrior that they had shaped in their own image, with their knowledge and with a power they knew nothing of. "Fake it. I need…" Harry shrugged, then, seeming lost in himself, in everything. His stature that had seemed to great, so adult and mature, moments before seemed to melt away in a moment and he was lost - a small speck of dust in the infinity of the universe. "I don't need anyone close to me. I don't need to lose anyone again." 

Trelawney nodded, feeling her throat tighten up. "I guess… I can find something. But you love him, don't you?" She lifted her gaze up resolutely, an unspoken challenge in her voice, and Harry dropped his gaze to the floor. An eternity of turmoil flashed across his face. The kisses, the warmth, the memories flooded upwards and died in his eyes. He nodded, once, before letting go of her hand. "Forever," was all he said, before silently padding out of the dungeons and out of sight. 

She didn't know how long she stood there. Long enough for the other students to finish their specialized classes, and long enough for them all to have left. Long enough for Sensei Matani to come back down to the dungeons and wrap his arms around her, comforting her, submerging the immense inexplicable sorrow she felt that burned and would not go away for a long time. 

----- 

When Draco finally regained consciousness in the small hours of Saturday morning, he'd almost instinctively known that Harry had been watching him, but wasn't there now. Struggling upright, he blinked a bit and waited for the dizziness of sitting up too fast to pass, before looking around the dimly lit infirmary. He wasn't the only occupant. Two beds over, a blonde girl in plaits hugged her teddy bear and was resplendent with her violet skin. He chuckled to himself, remembering when he'd turned Crabbe yellow in Potions a few weeks ago. The three beds after the violet-and-blonde girl were all occupied by boys. One of them looked like he was half-cat, half-human, one had violent warts sprouting all over his face and arms, and the third kept rising up off the bed two feet, fluttering his arms a little before sinking back down onto the bed. 

Draco closed his eyes, feeling the coolness of moonlight streaming in from the windows to caress his face for a few seconds before he opened his eyes again. On the narrow wooden table at the foot of his bed was a single roll of parchment. He figured it had to be some kind of scrawled apology from Harry, and leant forwards, ignoring the flash of pain that skidded across his leg and head. Twisting, and unrolling the parchment, so that he could read the words in the moonlight, Draco frowned and began to read. 

"_Draco. _

_"Sorry." _

Draco smiled to himself at the first two words, the scruffy words proclaiming itself as Harry's writing before he looked down to the bottom for the signature. It _was _an apology. Draco surprised himself at his own clarity of clairvoyance sometimes, or perhaps it was Harry's own Gryffindor reliability, always doing the honourable thing. 

Rolling his eyes melodramatically even though no one was around to witness his scorn at the Gryffindors, but still wanting to keep in practice, Draco felt a tingle through his hands. It was something that had happened over the last couple of weeks to be honest. Every time Harry was near he just felt… different. Stupider. Like the floor was jelly beneath his feet. He smiled to himself, feeling happy despite the pain, and read on. 

"_Of course it _was _your fault, it can't have been mine - after all I couldn't see where you were, you were invisible - so if it wasn't mine it must have been yours. Anyway, I found out Sensei Matani can see us when we're invisible! Weird, really, I should have thought of it. He hasn't said anything of course, but I'm sure that incident will be mentioned eventually, and when it does I'll thank you to deny it. In my mind it never happened. Professor Trelawney has admitted the love augurs were all wrong anyway, she was just kidding around for a reaction. Sorry if you took it seriously, but did you really think it was serious? Did you ever think that we'd never be apart, like an eternal heart-to-heart? (To quote a daft muggle song.) We're worlds apart, Malfoy. Universes. More the fool you, if you did.  
"Anyway, again, I'm sorry I knocked you out. Unintentional, but pleasing, considering your house. This message will self-destruct in a few moments, enough to hope you understand my apology for knocking you out. _

_"Your sincerely, Harry." _

Draco had barely time to register the words as the parchment suddenly caught on fire, and he instinctively dropped it. Realising his error, that his blanket would go up in flames, he moved to pick it up and throw it to the ceramic floor tiles where it would cause less damage, but it wasn't necessary. The Charm Harry had used on the parchment caused the thick paper to burn up but nothing else.

Stunned, Draco wished he could read the parchment again, thinking maybe it was a dream, or he'd misread it, or something. He felt his eyes burning, and he rubbed at them furiously. He was all too ready to brand Harry as arrogant for thinking he'd taken it all seriously, but the truth was that he _had _taken it seriously. With Rebecca and the vampires and everything… It was all too much. Rubbing his eyes feverishly, Draco felt his throat constrict and couldn't breathe. He'd honestly thought it had _meant _something to Harry, that the other had actually - as silly as it sounded now - felt something. 

Thinking back on things, Draco felt like he had, really, initialized everything. He'd been the one to _voice _his feelings. The first kiss would have just been the product of raging hormones. He knew as a teenager it was one's first primal urge to hump everything in sight, especially at sixteen like they both were. The second kiss had been instrumental. Harry speaking to him was just his Gryffindor stupidity - preferring to go along with something rather than hurt someone. He'd probably felt forced to at least try and be friends with Draco because of the augurs, but it was a lie. A stupid lie. 

Draco stopped rubbing at his eyes as the heavy truth hit him, hitting all of the breathe out of him in a whoosh, and he flopped to his pillow in disgust. Disgust at his own sense of futility that he couldn't do anything. Disgust at his own thoughts and feelings. Disgust that he had… he _had _started to fall for someone who couldn't honestly give a damn about him, except to occasionally insult him in the corridors. 

Disgust at his own weakness. 

Draco pulled the blanket over his own head, and, for once, just let the tears fall. 

----- 

He visited Rebecca on his own in the morning. 

Dropping off into the hall for just time long enough to wrap a few bread rolls in a napkin and avoid the composed glance of Harry from across the room, Draco ignored the mutterings and glances and ran up to the teacher's table. After getting permission from Dumbledore, Draco ran down to the dungeons, where Dumbledore had explained his sister was. Feeling slightly sick as he passed the room where he did invisible fighting on Friday nights, and passing the two advanced Potions dungeons on the next level down, Draco found himself running. 

He ran down the stairs to the lowest level of Hogwart's dungeons, using the pain in his side and legs to focus on rather than on his own troubled feelings, and approached the gargoyle at the end of the long corridor. The corridor was full of crawling bugs and insects that Draco chose to ignore. 

Stepping back, Draco tapped his wand three times on the protruding beak of the gargoyle, and it sprang backwards to reveal a richly furnished room. Crimson and silver hangings dropped from the ceiling in a criss-cross of rich and thick material, and several beds decorated with crimson blankets were lined up against one wall, while the opposite wall was lined with tables and large comfortable armchairs. 

"Uh, hi." Feeling foolish, Draco stood in the doorway holding his parcel of bread while several pale faces watched him expectantly. Rebecca hopped out of her chair at the sound of her brother's voice, and ran over to join him at the doorway. Knowing better than to touch him, she indicated for him to follow her, and walking slowly Draco joined his vampiric sister in one corner. The blonde vampire was holding what looked to be the leg of a cow in one hand, and Draco blanched. Rebecca dropped it to one of the tables by the side before sitting in an armchair opposite Draco. 

"This is a surprise," Rebecca said slowly, looking at him with wide silvery eyes that shone with hope and fear all at once. 

Draco shrugged. "I needed some space. Besides, Elegeia, you _are _my sister, despite your grossness." 

Rebecca screwed up her nose, and wiped something that looked too much like blood to Draco's taste off her cheek. "I told you when I was three, Draydoo, don't call me Elegeia." 

Draco rolled his eyes. "_Rebecca_," he said, drawing out the syllables exaggeratedly. "Don't you ever mention that _name _again." 

Rebecca stuck her tongue out, knowing how much being called _Draydoo _enraged her brother. It had been all she'd been able to say when she was little, the closest approximation she could manage to her brother's name. "So… how are you?" Rebecca nodded at the various bruises on his arms, and a nasty looking cut on his left hand. Draco shrugged and unwrapped his bread, munching thoughtfully on one of the rolls before raising his eyebrows. 

"I don't know really. I guess I'm feeling a little down," Draco admitted, looking at the floor and twisting some of the bread between his fingers. The crumbs drifted to the thick pile carpet, but he didn't seem to notice. 

"Is this to do with that boy?" 

Draco's gaze lurched up. "What-- How did --" 

Rebecca hid her face behind one hand as she giggled. "Oh please. You two were so sickeningly sweet." 

At her words, Draco seemed to slump further. Suddenly concerned, Rebecca slid forwards to stare intently at her brother. 

"What has he done? I swear if he's hurt you I'll _kill _him…" Rebecca snarled. Draco looked a little surprised, but murmured his thanks. "Well," Rebecca amended, remembering her vows, "injure him a little." 

"No, no, it's all right," Draco said eventually, chewing reflectively on the bread. "I think I'm just irreversibly screwed up." 

Rebecca snorted. "Join the family," she said derisively. Draco arched one eyebrow, looking incredibly sombre and almost as pale as the vampires around him before a rare smile broke on his face and suddenly they both were laughing, laughing hysterically, the only thought of the hilarity of the situation and no thought of the pain that bound them both together, but pulled them apart at the same time. The laughing subsided eventually, and the siblings were looked at curiously by some of the other vampires, but Draco suddenly looked sombre again, sadder and more troubled and impossibly older. 

"I've lost it, 'Becca," Draco whispered, the words catching and burning in his throat. "I've lost everything." Forgetting his fears, his repulsion, Draco let Rebecca slide his arms around him and he cried in the arms of his sister, lost in the eternity of his own sorrow and loss. 

**I know, I know, two years I said this fic was to be continued.**

**And I...**

** MEANT IT!**

**Onward, amigos! Join the continuing D+D fray. :)**


	6. Apologies

Title: Dungeons and Distractions v2.0 

Author: Mizzy 

E-mail: mizzy_2k@yahoo.co.uk 

Rating: PG-13 

Homepage: ; 

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

Summary: "_Grab my wrist!"_ Midnight martial arts, invisible kissing at midnight, and Professor Dumbledore trying to smuggle in illegal immigrants? What's a boy to do in a mixed-up muddle of a mixed-up world? 

Author's Notes: Title was going to be "There's kind of one thing I don't get", until I realised it was too cheesy. Decided on this one to freak some people out - some authors put up "apologies" into one chapter to explain why they're discontinuing. Hehe. Have a mean streak, but you already knew that. Why else would I discontinue the fic for two years and then pick it up again, eh?

Soundtrack: The Final Fantasy X-2 original soundtrack, esp. Saikai, Mataauhimade and Kuon-Hikari To Nami No Kioku. It actually fits for the whole series of D+D, so if you have it, listen to it!

-----

Part Six - "Apologies."

-----

"There's kind of one thing I don't get."

Esmerelda looked over the edge of the heavy mug, her large eyes blinking almost owlishly at the pensive teenager.

"I saw once a tapestry, a family tree, which included the Malfoys. Magical, I think, updating names and dates when anything occurred. So why doesn't Rebecca show up on it?"

Esmerelda shrugged once, slowly. "I suppose it is because, in the times when the Dark Lord walked the surface and reigned fire down from the heavens, wizard children didn't often last beyond their sixth birthdays. There was a cull in all babies born in the year of your birth, Harry Potter."

She observed the blanch that crossed his face, the warmth of compassion still within her reaching out to him.

"It was cast into many family spells that children would only be recorded if they reached their tenth birthday."

Harry nodded, his dark green eyes soft with contemplation. "I see. And Rebecca-"

"Crossed over before this date." Esmerelda put the mug down, leant forwards on her chair to lock gazes with Harry. "It was tough on Draco. We let Rebecca visit, once a year, and he thought it a dream. He loved her very much."

The words stung. Harry looked away.

"You know this pain."

It was a statement, not a question. Harry forced himself to look up at the green-clad vampire. "I-" The words were hard to find, even now. "I lost someone. Last year. Someone-" His throat constricted, and he fought past the lump that forced to mute him forever. "Someone I loved very much died."

Something within him shifted, and Harry fought down the tears and the self-loathing that threatened to fall. He had become an adult after that. He had died that day.

"Then you will understand-"

"I suppose." Harry nervously gulped down the rest of his drink, looking up sheepishly at Esmerelda. "Thanks for talking to me. I didn't know who to go to. I'm sorry for landing everything on you."

"Not at all." Esmerelda smiled. "You need someone who has suffered, who has grown, who has the same cause as you to talk to. None of your friends can even contemplate what you are going through. And you need to talk. You can't just bottle it up."

"Can't let it out loudly either," Harry said with a rueful smirk, remembering his outbursts of last year. He'd put that behind him, realising his own pain was nothing compared to the rest of the world. The greater good had to be served. He could not pause to soften the way for anyone, least of all himself.

Esmerelda seemed to know what he was thinking. She reached forward unthinkingly, taking Harry's hand in her own. He started at the coolness, and then winced apologetically at her. "There is another you could talk to-" she started.

Harry shook his head violently. "Dumbledore's gone cuckoo," he said flatly. "I mean, letting me keep the DA going, and then giving it to the twins to run-"

"Not Dumbledore." Esmerelda's eyes bored into him. "You know who I mean."

Harry deflated slightly. "I know. But I can't. Talking to him would mean having to let him in closer, and I do not think I could bear it if-"

"If you lost another that you loved."

Harry felt something within him call for denial, and then the rational part of him shot that down. "I suppose."

"You _suppose_." Esmerelda's voice was laden with sarcasm.

"All right, all right," Harry said swiftly. "I _know_." He seemed even more uncomfortable than his brief reference to Sirius. "I didn't plan to- well, you know." He shifted in his seat. "Didn't even know it was love." He stared bleakly into the distance. "Wasn't sure if I was capable of it."

"All who live are," Esmerelda assured him. "It is our ability to love that makes it life, Harry."

"Now you're sounding like Dumbledore," Harry joked lightly, leaning back in the seat. His poise was not the relaxed poise of a sixteen year old, but of an adult, waiting for war. An adult fear danced in his eyes, making him keen, making him dangerous.

"Ah, finally, a compliment." Humour lit her dark eyes. "It doesn't come along often, Harry. Love is- There's a thousand clichés I could use. A million. Love is something you are, something you just know. It isn't something you can exactly describe in words, else we'd all be looking in dictionaries and probably be a lot happier. It isn't something you can push away."

"It's something I can try to."

"What are you afraid of?"

The question struck Harry hard. "He-" He swallowed, taking a moment to compose his thoughts. He turned to Esmerelda. "He was my enemy for so long, Esmerelda. How can I forget that? How can I forgive him for-"

"For?"

"For not clapping in Cedric's memory. For being so brutal to my friends even though he was just acting. For-" His cheeks burned. "For not even letting me be me any more. I don't know who I am. All I know is that I can't find where I begin or end, unless he's there."

"And you just pushed him away." Esmerelda stared at him flatly. "Rebecca has been working on him, but there's only so much she can do. He still resents her."

"Resents her?"

"As much as you resent your... someone... for not listening to you, for leaving you."

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me." Esmerelda's words were heavy, but her expression was gentle. "You are not the only one to have suffered loss."

Harry squirmed. "Sorry." He let a breath out into the silence.

"So how did you know you loved him?"

Harry looked up at her. "We were fighting, in the great hall." His eyes flittered from left to right as he relived the memory. "I've never seen him more alive then when he was looking at me up from the floor. Trusting that I wouldn't take advantage of having him in that position." He noted her shrewd expression and flushed brilliantly. "Not like that! I mean, by hurting him. I could have been lying. I could have wanted to hurt him, and I could have." A brief sweep of nausea choked him for a second. "I wanted to." Seeing him, knowing that he had not grieved for Cedric. "And then-"  
  
"Then?"

Harry passed a calculating look over the leader of the Order of the Cantial. "You're awfully eager."

Esmerelda smiled, her pointed front teeth glimmering in the soft firelight. "Don't get much romance in a celibate Order. Let's just say I get to live vicariously for a moment through you."

"And then, it was just there." Harry continued as if the interlude had never happened. "I wanted to kiss him again. All I could think of was that warmth I felt. I felt like I was- falling. Falling, and he was there, a soft landing. And I knew in that second he'd always be there, if I asked." He shrugged ruefully. "That's also the second I knew I was totally screwed. I couldn't ask him to be there for me."  
  
"Why not?"

Harry sighed. "Death follows me, Esmerelda. It's like, I'm on its radar constantly. Everyone around me gets caught in the crossfire."

"And you don't want to hurt him."

"Exactly." Harry stared at the flickering firelight, his eyes lost in the graceful leaps of the flames.

"But you've hurt him by pushing him away. And by staying away." Esmerelda's voice compelled Harry to look back at her. "And it may be permanent, unless you swallow your fear. Trust him. Give him a chance."

"But-"

"Give _you_ a chance. You and him." Her voice was soft, a soft twang in her tone remnant of her commanding role in the Order. "I think you'll find getting rid of him a lot harder than you'd expect. Love does that to you."

Harry looked up sharply, but Esmerelda was looking away now. She did not turn back to face him.

"Has he- I mean-"

Esmerelda continued to stare at some invisible horizon. "He has been talking to his sister now. They are closer than they ever were, but he is sad, and she knows it's because of you. I do not like to think what she would do if you do not sort yourself out and go after him."

Harry got to his feet, the struggle evident on his face to be quickly replaced by a pure Gryffindor look of determination. His rather too-adult tilt of the head was quietly replaced by a more timid one, that of adolescence and uncertainty. "But- by now- he'll hate me, he'll-"

"Just try, Harry. That's all you can do. You do love him, don't you?"

Uncertainty fled his face, and he tilted his chin almost defiantly. "Yes." He balanced on the balls of his feet. "But-"

"Think on it, Harry." Esmerelda's voice was soft now, gentle to match her words. "Only you can decide whether or not to trust him."

-----

"There's one thing I don't get."

Ron arched a dark look at Hermione. Sweaty and tired, he forced himself to stand upright, leaning against the stacks of archive boxes with some small relief. "What don't _you_ get?"

Hermione brushed a handkerchief over her forehead, and settled down on a solid looking cardboard box to rest. Ron joined her on an opposite one, hoping it wouldn't collapse beneath his weight. "How come two people can be enemies, and then all because of a love augur they're desperately languishing over each other."

Ron gave a small shrug. "Seen it happen before, mate," he said, sliding his wand into his pocket. At Hermione's frown, he continued. "Percy and Oliver, right? Had this big all round war going on. Some kind of deal to see who could prank the other the most. Percy even lowered himself to asking the twins for help the first couple of years. Then the pranks got more subtle." Ron smirked at the memory.

"Such as?" Hermione moved to lean forwards on the box, and squeaked involuntarily as the box shifted beneath her. She quickly leant her weight backwards again.

"Once, Percy Charmed Oliver's glasses so they were rose-tinted," Ron explained, sharing a smile with her as she got the joke. "He proposed to half of the Slytherins within a week before McGonagall figured it out."

"_Professor_ McGonagall, Ron," Hermione chided, but she didn't sound too mad.

"Anyway, Percy was more than a little freaked out by the results, and-"

"Why was he freaked out?"

"'Cause it was the male half of the Slytherins."

Hermione smothered a laugh. "Must have been a shock to Percy."

"You bet," Ron said. "Gave Percy a right old shock to the system. To the point of finding out Oliver really _was_ uh- I want to say attractive, but I don't want to sound weird - well, attractive - underneath his glasses, and Percy freaking out so much he went and got himself a girlfriend."

"Penelope," Hermione realised. Ron nodded. "So, they-"

"Avoided each other 'til about the middle of their last year here. You know, the whole Sirius-" Ron paused, his freckled face going pale as he thought about it. Quieter now, subdued by the reminder of last summer, he quickly continued his narrative. If perhaps his words were a little quicker now, Hermione did not say anything. "Anyway. After about three years of freaking out around each other - boom."

"Boom?"

"As in big explosion, boom. Bombs, fireworks-"

"Ah. Boom."

"But it took three years." Ron sighed heavily, fidgeting on the seat. "It's weird enough that it's Malfoy, right, but I don't want Harry to be unhappy. We lost him enough this year. We can't push him away any further just 'cause the universe has given him a kick up the rear and pointed him vaguely in the direction of happiness."

Hermione nodded noncommittally, getting to her feet and heading towards the archival boxes again, noticing in despair that there was still hundreds of boxes to go. "That's true." She paused. "When did you get so wise, mister?"

Ron tipped her a cheeky wink. "When I had to look through a hundred archive boxes, looking for incidents of meat being brought into Hogwarts and all the times extispicy is mentioned in the old Hogwarts Curriculum _manually_. That's when I got so wise."

Hermione gave him a rueful glance. "Well, guess it's true what they say. You do whinge more, the wiser you get. Honestly, if you mention the fact one more that we're having to do this without magic, I think I'll-"

"You think you'll _what_?" Ron asked, a glint in his eyes as he flipped open an old and manky looking notebook.

"_Ron_."

Ron paused at the sound of her voice, strangled and thin.

"What?"

"Without magic." Hermione slammed down the almanac she was glancing through and looked at him with widened eyes. "The extra lessons, Ron. You know. What _we've_ been doing, and the rumours that- the cooking, and the needlework - _Ron_."

"_Hermione_," Ron crossly echoed. "If you don't tell me what you've just eureka'd yourself onto in the next minute, I shall be forced to take this notebook and-"

"Ron, what if there was a way to remove magic?" Hermione stepped forwards to him, her hazel eyes sharp with new knowledge. "What if Voldemort removed all magic from Hogwarts?"

Wincing at Hermione's use of the 'V-word', Ron shook his head dismissively, bending his head back over the notebook he had found. "Nah, can't be done. Dad told me that the only way magic could go away was if someone used the four elemental treasures, but it wouldn't be done, because it wipes out _all_ magic. You-know-who would never place himself at such a great disadvantage."

"Wouldn't he?" Hermione asked briskly. Ron looked up again from the page slowly, horror on his face. "You see!" Hermione crowed, misinterpreting Ron's expression. "He doesn't _need_ magic, Ron. He can command creatures that don't need magic to fight us. Trolls, giants, Manticores, dragons, dementors, zombies, vampires... We'll be defenseless, Ron."

"Shit," Ron murmured helplessly. "It's the vampire thing I'm worried about."

"Only the vampires?" Hermione asked with a confused tone in her voice. "I'd have thought-"

"Here," Ron said, thrusting the notebook in her direction. He looked at her through the thick curtain of hair covering his eyes. "Seventy years ago, when vampires were exiled from the magical community, Hogwarts was listed as a sanctuary for the _Cantial _clan. Vampires. A magical bind was put on Hogwarts, that no vampire could enter save through the front door."

Hermione took the notebook, and paraphrased its contents out loud so that she could shift through the meanings that the words held. "The Cantial clan, or Order of Cantial, took a vow that no human being should be harmed by them." Her dark eyes glanced up. "The meat, Ron. They don't eat humans. They'll be eating the carcasses. The Order of Cantial is _in Hogwarts, _Ron!" Excited, she continued to read. "However, harmless as the Order may be, the bind put upon Hogwarts meant that any creature could enter Hogwarts throughout the front door. Hogwarts is protected by the most ancient of magics, connected directly to the earth, unaffected even by the elemental treasures..."

Hermione scanned the rest of the text in silence, her gut twisting in fear. "Ron, I think Volde- sorry, you-know-who - is planning to lay siege to Hogwarts. He cannot get in even if he takes the magic away, so he plans to lock us in here until we run out of food and agree to a surrender." Her voice quietened. "And I'd bet anything it'd be Harry and Dumbledore he'll want in return for letting us live."

Ron nodded darkly. "Guess that's why there's been all the secrecy. People have been trained to last through a siege, and we've been trained as part of the defense."

"Most sound as if they've been trained to help us sustain the siege," Hermione said lightly, pushing the boxes away so she and Ron could lean over the notebook. "Needlework, learning how to cook, defensive techniques..."

"You know, I'm starting to be suspicious of that needlework thing for the General Studies students," Ron said. Hermione looked at him quizzically. "I mean, I know it'd be important for us to know how to fix clothes by hand. But, y'know, _you_ know how to do it. What with that knitting lark you went on last year." Hermione flushed but let him continue to speak. "You could teach the rest of us, easy. Harry and Malfoy, they both take General Studies, but the blood they've spilled hasn't been from pricking themselves with needles."

Hermione giggled suddenly, covering her mouth with one hand. Ron eyed her suspiciously and fell silent. "Ron, you may as well continue. I'm not laughing at your thoughts. _Honest._"

Ron, disgruntled, continued anyway. "They've both beaten the shit out of each other several times last month. And there was the thing in the hall, with the poles. That didn't look like some - I'm so mad at you, I'll lash out with anything that comes to hand - thing. It looked more like they were trained to fight so well with those poles."

"They may be getting extra lessons," Hermione suggested. "I mean, extra, extra. Extra to the needlework."

"Sounds plausible," Ron agreed. "Or maybe... Maybe they let the rumours go wild. Have you heard _one_ of them try and deny it? It is embarrassing. I'd deny it, even if it was true. The only reason none of them are denying it is because it's not true. They'll be vindicated eventually, so why deny it now? Especially if the real thing is as cool as that stick fighting they were doing."

Hermione was silent for a long moment. "Sounds very plausible," she said. "I don't think we should go around with these ideas, though."

"Don't want the school to panic, eh?" Ron looked slightly amused. "We should confront Harry about it."

"Or Malfoy," Hermione suggested, a small cat-like smile on her face. 

Ron glowered. "Or Malfoy," he conceded. "Preferably the former."

"Or maybe we can find one of the vampires." Hermione smirked, and then gasped in realisation. "Ron, what if Malfoy and Harry weren't pissed at each other when they fought with the 'sticks'?"

"Can't see why he wouldn't be," Ron said lightly.

"_Ron_," Hermione said sharply, for the hundredth time that day. "What if the Order of the Cantial came in _then_."

"But we'd have seen it-" Ron started, before his mouth dropped open. "Unless they were a deliberate distraction."

"Exactly," Hermione said, nodding her bushy-haired head so hard her hair came out of the scrunchie she'd flung it into before starting the archive trawl. "Come on, let's try and track down one of them to talk to."

Ron nodded, pushing one box away while keeping hold of the notebook for future reference. They reached the door and pushed it open, expecting to come out into a small corridor. Instead, they came out somewhere on the eight floor.

Hermione sighed. "Last time I listen to you suggesting using the Room of Requirement for a short cut," she complained.

Ron grinned. "Saved us one journey, didn't it?"

-----

"Right, class. Return your _bos_ to the rack. Well done, tonight. I'll see you next week."

They all bowed and murmured their thanks to Sensei Matani, who instructed them in the use of the _bo_. Harry passed his _bo_ to Seamus to take to the rack, hanging back as he always did with Ernie to return the gymnastics mats to a pile in the corner of the dungeon practise room. As he headed to the mat closest to the door to pick it up, he was surprised to see Draco at the other end of the mat, preparing to help him carry it. A blush scurried onto Harry's cheeks before he could stop it.

"Hey," Harry managed, his voice squeaking uncomfortably, reminding him of that equally-horrendous period of adolescence when his voice had broken for the first time. It had been that summer after his first year, and was made only slightly bearable by the fact that for the most of it, Dudley was worried that Harry would turn him into a toad if he mentioned it in a negative way.

"I offered to swap with Ernie." Draco offered the information without Harry having to ask, looking at anywhere but Harry as they slowly started to cross the dungeon floor to where the mats were stored. "It's not fair you two do the same big job every night we're in here."

Draco's reminder that they were only in the large dungeon four nights a week reminded Harry of the other night, the Friday night, and that could only lead thoughts in a southern direction. Harry forced his mind onto keeping his footsteps matching Draco's, so there was no trips or falls.

"Right, boys, I'll leave you to do that."

The two boys looked up to see Sensei Matani pulling a heavy curtain over the rack of _bo_s. 

"Shut the door when you leave." His eyebrow twitched at them as he bowed goodbye and left.

"I suspect he's deliberately leaving us alone," Harry said softly, after a stiff second of silence when they'd dropped the first mat. They mutually began moving to the mat next-closest to the door without having to discuss it. "He usually stays until Ernie and I've cleaned the whole place up."

"He's trusting us to be alone and not fight?" Draco raised one eyebrow and smirked slightly.

Harry muffled a laugh. "Yeah. He's the one that supervises our Invisible Fighting, after all. He's seen _everything_ we got up to in that."

Draco fell silent for a second as they dropped the second mat neatly on top of the first and headed for the next one. "Yeah," he managed eventually, his voice subdued, before grinning brilliantly. Harry looked up and caught the grin. Draco only smiled wider at Harry's confusion. "Guess we really mucked that one up, eh?"

"Hormones will be hormones," Harry returned lightly, cursing himself that that was all he could of as a response. He watched a shadow flicker across Draco's face, a swarm of dark butterflies bearing ill tidings, and tried again. "It was all my fault, after all."

"Really?" Draco squinted at Harry. "Wow, he admits it, after a month of me blaming him."

"You don't sound surprised," Harry commented, pushing his end of the third mat so it settled comfortably in the corner of the dungeon.

"Why? Knew you'd tell the truth eventually. You'd not be a Gryffindor otherwise." Draco cast a long glance at Harry, before blushing and looking at his feet.

"We're not good at lying, that's true," Harry said. "But if we're stubborn enough, sometimes lies can keep going, and then- we're not too good at stopping them."

Draco's head jerked up so suddenly Harry almost dropped the fourth mat they'd picked up. "Trelawney's a crap liar, too. I knew the augurs weren't fake when she said they were."

Harry blinked at him, blowing to push errant strands of midnight hair out of his eyes, wishing he could use his hands. As soon as they put away the fourth mat, he pushed both of his hands through his thick shock of hair. "You knew I'd asked her to fake it."

"Yes." Draco's voice was quiet. "I knew you were scared, too. Scared of loving someone like me."

Harry laughed, and deliberately didn't bend down to pick up the fifth mat. "I was never scared of loving you." He stepped forwards onto the mat, and the mat fell uselessly out of Draco's fingers as the increased pressure from Harry's footsteps yanked it downwards out of his hands. He lifted one hand up before he knew what he was doing with it, and then determinedly pressed on through with the option his mind presented him with. He placed his hands firmly under Draco's chin, sweeping up those tormented silver eyes to meet with his own.

He was lost. He didn't know how it happened, when it happened, or why, but he knew in this exact moment he was eternally grateful for it happening. He didn't know how long he stayed there, fire crashing into fire, softening the pain, blurring the world around them. Harry felt his breathing quicken, and felt his own feet step forward despite himself.

"Wait," Draco said, the word slipping out with a little difficult. Draco's skin undulated under Harry's firm touch to form the word, and it hung awkwardly between them. 

Harry's eyes flitted across Draco's face, feeling like he was _home_, but feeling like he was on the very edge of a precipice, which could any second send him tumbling over the edge. _But it's worth it_, he thought fiercely. _It's worth it to know_.

"Wait?" Harry gulped the word out in a breathless whisper, pulling his hand away slightly, only for it to be grabbed and held by Draco. Draco's hands were warmer than he'd expected, his touch firmer. Draco looked as if he could be swept away by a breath of a whisper, but his touch belied the truth. Steady as a rock, eyes endless like water, fire branding through their touch.

"Don't kiss me unless you mean it." The words came out in a rush of air, as if Draco was scared they were the wrong words to say, or if he was scared of what Harry would do. The fear soothed something deep in Harry's soul.

Harry stepped backwards slightly and the fire from the lamps fizzled out, the Charm not meant to last much beyond one am. 

Disappointed, Draco looked around as moonlight abruptly flooded the dungeon. He didn't know if this was from Charm, considering that the dungeon was deep in the castle, or something else, but right at that moment he didn't care. He only cared that, once again, he was making a huge fool of himself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Having convinced himself over the past few weeks that Harry had only kissed him as a tool for something, and that Harry did not care about him in the same way he- in the same way he cared for Harry, he hated himself. Hated that he still let himself hope that Harry may-could-perhaps still...

"I..." Draco's voice dropped an octave in horror, his tentative voice echoing ineptly against the stone walls of the dungeon, and he pulled back. The feel of Harry's hand against his chin flared up again, and the smell that Harry took with him everywhere accompanied it, a fluctuating smell of soap and crushed grass burning his nostrils, blurring his gaze. He didn't even stop to look at the expression on Harry's face, it was all he could do not to vomit at the thought of Oliver's face, disgusted, those _too_ greeneyes widened with amusement that Draco could think Harry could feel anything for him, finely shaped eyebrows lifting in derision. He fled, turning on his heel and fleeing through the door, ashamed at his pitiful idea that Harry could still... _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

He was grateful for the thick, lush carpet down the dungeon corridors as he skittered across it like a two-legged spider in his shoes, aiming for the nearest toilets down near the potion store caverns. The dense green weave muffled the rhythmic, frantic thuds of his feet as he escaped, mortification flooding his cheeks like a tidal wave, abrupt and all-consuming as he slid the door shut and bolting it closed. 

Shaking, he gripped the edge of the china-white hand basin, paused like a bird on the edge of flight, perched uneasily on his toes. All he could see was his hair, hanging black seaweed trails covering his eyes, and a hazy shade of grey. Eventually he lifted his gaze to stare, hollow-eyed, at his trembling reflection. A gaunt boy stared unflinchingly back at him, ash-blond hair dulled to a charcoal grey in the moonless bathroom. Fear was plastered indelibly on his anguished cheekbones, pain raw in his endless eyes, hair clinging to his head like a clenched hand. Draco looked down almost immediately, at his pale hands, white with exertion as they clutched desperately at the implacable surface. He let go, and flexed his hands, before fumbling with the taps and splashing too-cold water on his fear-shrunken face. 

Draco stayed there, water tumbling off his cheeks and his hair, not moving for a towel. For a long time, he clung to the edges of the basin again for support, before tiredly lifting his head as if it was the largest burden he had ever carried, and clumsily groping at the bolt to undo it. He pulled the door open, and as it slid open too easily he came face to face with a white-looking face. 

Harry inhaled sharply and stepped forwards firmly before Draco had a chance to stumble backwards. Draco felt hands on his face, damp but certain, and saw Harry's face detach itself from the darkness behind. Soft lips grazed against his, and Draco's eyes fluttered closed along with the breathy whimper that crawled up his throat, expelling itself into the ether. Draco kept his eyes closed, concentrating on the feel of Harry's breath, warm on his face, rapid and regular. He felt his own arms moving up, his own hands gently and wonderingly on Harry's hips, heat seeping through the simple cotton t-shirt that Harry wore, white like Harry's aura, like the house, like the light smashing through Draco's vision. 

No one ever said about the images that accompanied a sensation like that. Behind his eyelids, Draco saw clouds that rushed unsteadily beneath his feet as he tried to ride a broomstick - a Cleansweep he'd gotten from his father - for the very first time, his first trip to muggle London, seeing Harry Potter for the very first time and realising in fifth year that the reason he couldn't stop thinking about the lithe and focussed Seeker was because he had a crush on him. The images started flittering wildly across his vision as those lips surged forwards, insisting and probing. Like his first exam, the quill poised nervously on the empty page as he realised he didn't remember a single thing except how to vomit. Like the time Pansy kissed him, but she was too soft pressed up against him, soft and overwhelming and sickly.

Like that time when the Malfoys revealed they were good to Dumbledore, when Harry Potter smiled like sunshine at him, and he realised that the crush he'd ardently tried to believe would go away was something different to hormonal infatuation. 

Draco wondered at his own hands. They seemed to have a life of their own. As he kissed Harry back desperately, mouth open, tongue possessed into a frenzy of trying to meld with Harry's own, one of his hands slipped under the rumpled t-shirt that Harry wore. The cotton material rode up easily, and Draco skimmed his fingers desperately over the smooth surface he wanted to brand to his senses. His other hand lifted up, idly twisting in the hair on the back of Harry's neck. 

This kiss. This was the kiss that Draco had been waiting for, damn the cliché, but all his life. Firm and in control, fuller lips than his own that rubbed deliciously on his own, and Draco could taste apples and pumpkin juice and _Harry_. The combination of tastes, or maybe it was just the way Harry was pressed up against him now, awkwardly pushing his back against the cold tiled wall, or the way Harry's tongue was tracing Draco's alveolar ridge, wet and warm and awaking something low within Draco. The images crashing across Draco's senses faded into a brilliant light, and the feeling of velvet and heat and something animalistic within remained. Harry's chest was now flush against his own, his Quidditch muscles melding into Draco's lean body. Harry moaned down Draco's throat, his fingers turning into claws, desperately grabbing at Draco in the heat. Draco's eyes flew open, and a delicious growl or a purr emanated from Harry as Draco's head fell back against the cool surface. 

The claws paused, and stars burst along his vision. Draco could make out the green of Harry's intense gaze. He pulled away from Harry long enough to skid over to the door, slamming it shut and bolting it closed. Harry looked up at him, eyes widened with shock, before pushing Draco up against the surface. It hurt, but that didn't matter, because it hurt less than being apart from Harry, and Harry's touch soothed any pain. 

Harry bent as if to kiss him - _was that kissing or was he eating me alive? _- and then paused. His face, inverted by the shadows, hovered tantalizing by his own, Harry's hands firm on his wrists stopping him from moving. Draco jerked his chest forward, frustrated, and even thought that he had whimpered when Harry pulled his face back and he couldn't kiss him again.

Disappointment bristled over Draco's bearing, but Draco continued to stand strong. "Unless I mean what," Harry whispered, his voice still sounding as loud as a shout to them both in the stillness of the toilets. 

The note of teasing in his tone was unmistakable. Strengthened, Draco pulled himself upright as much as he could in Harry's forceful grasp, but did not say a word. He lifted his hand, a salute, alighting his hand gently on Harry's cheek.

Harry couldn't think of a single word to say. His knees seemed suddenly to collapse beneath him, and suddenly Draco was holding _him_, letting them both sink to their knees on the cold stone surface. Draco's fingers traced his face where his hair met his skin, his jaw line, his cheeks, leaving burning trails behind him. Trembling, Harry put one hand under Draco's chin again.

"Every time," Harry said, truth flooding his simple words. "Every single time I meant it. And every single time from now on, I will mean it." In wonder, he felt Draco's body, stilled as it was next to his own. A warm tingle swept his body, and he could bear it no longer. His thumb reached up to brush Draco's cheek, trace the edges of a smile that threatened never to go away. 

Draco's heart leapt. He felt abruptly scared that it wasn't real, and then felt abruptly scared that it was. Then his fear melted away, and it was just them. Real. There. Fighting for the same thing. Desperate for each other. "I love you," he whispered, eventually. "It's okay if you don't. I just- needed you to know where I was. With everything. With us."

Harry paused, as if to think. The moonlight flooded Harry's face, smudging his features, but his eyes were clear. Draco looked at him, not nervous, not scared, just trusting. Something dark took hold of Harry's eyes. He started to stand, and Draco helped him up. "I-" He seemed to think better of what he was going to say. Eyes flickering to the side, Harry mumbled his next words. "Guess we'd better get the rest of the mats tidied away, then."

Draco stepped backwards, feeling a little disconcerted and nervous as he watched Harry moving, business-like, snapping the bolt away and silently leading them back down the corridor to the practise room. They passed the practise room. Draco was so distracted, mortification that he'd probably just made a huge fool of himself flooding his pale cheeks with colour, that he almost didn't notice. As Draco followed Harry up several more passages, he decided to bring up the subject. "Harry, this isn't the way to the-"

Harry stilled, and twisted back to smile softly, reassuringly, at Draco. Firelight from the torches danced over his face, hiding his eyes in shadows. "Just trust me."

Draco nodded, unable to speak, and padded gently after Harry, not even looking now where Harry was leading him, concentrating instead on Harry's back. If Harry were not to lead him into the Gryffindor common room, wake the lot of them and tell them what Draco had said, then Draco would follow him there. 

Draco trusted, hoped, and followed Harry as they left the dungeons.

-----

"Did _you_ have something to do with this?"

Flourishing in the darkness, Rebecca smiled toothily up at her mentor and friend. Esmerelda did not look down at Rebecca, but watched the two figures amble off together down the corridor with an answering smile on her face.

"I meddled as much as you, Becky."

Rebecca shifted a little. "I didn't know if he'd dare trust himself again."

"When love's at stake, little one, daring is all you can do."

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. Years beyond her appearance accompanied this expression of annoyance. "I thought you promised not to quote clichés at us anymore."

"You listened to me. I'm shocked."

"You used the word stake. _I'm _shocked."

"Bratling."

"You wouldn't have it any other way, Esmerelda."

Esmerelda smiled, and looked down at her young charge. "That I wouldn't. It's just a pity."

"A pity?"

"That their love must come at a time when the whole world will be at strife."

"Isn't that the best time for it to come?"

"Why so?"

"A little spark of hope can make an eternity of distress bearable, I should think."

"Such a wise head on little shoulders."

"Not my fault I can't grow any more."

"We could stretch you."

"Eh."

They fell silent, watching as Harry and Draco disappeared around the corner.

"They'll need that strength," Rebecca said softly, feeling Esmerelda's hand alight on her shoulder. "To get through."

"Even that may not be enough." Esmerelda's face darkened over. "Three weeks until the full moon."

"So soon?" Rebecca shifted until Esmerelda's hand. "I had wished so much for more time with him."

"We all have wished so, little one. Our fate is not to be that. You know what the prophecy says. We will not have long when the magic fails."

"Neither will Voldemort." Rebecca's face gleamed with the strength of this knowledge. She suddenly looked fierce, terrible, and this look echoed on Esmerelda's older, knowing face.

"It means we have a chance. Slim. And if we fail, it will be all up to them."

"As it was in the beginning, so it will be in the end."

"Poetic."

"Need a little poetry at the end of the world, don't you think?"

"Need a bloody miracle, more like."

"Maybe _they're _it."

"To end the apocalypse? Two boys? Wish we could have taken you when you were older."

"Two boys in love," Rebecca corrected. "Empires were born on that."

"And thrived, and fell on that too. We'll see, little one. If they can pass the first test, I think we have a bigger chance than I'd give them credit for. Else..."

"Else?"

"Else, I fear, we shall have to prepare them all that this could be _the _end. Not just of their kind, but of the whole world."

"And we're putting this on the shoulders of _two boys in love_?"

"This was your idea, you know."

"Eh, I know. It's just- the fate of the universe in the hands of my big brother? I don't know what the muggles would think if they knew."

"Probably several four-letter words."

"Cake. Food. Pipe."

"Impudent brat."

"You know I try." Rebecca paused, thoughtful. "If anyone can do it, they can." She grinned, showing her full set of teeth. Danger lurked beneath her innocent guise. "But I'll say one thing."

"What?"

"He'll be absolutely insufferable if he succeeds. Almost glad we won't be around to see it."

Rebecca waited for a sarcastic remark to come from Esmerelda. Instead, the older vampire pulled her into a motherly hug. Rebecca settled into the hug, her tiny arms moving around Esmerelda's waist.

"Courage, little one. Prophecies are not always right."

"Not always wrong, either," Rebecca retorted.

"That's true." Esmerelda pulled out of the hug. "Your brother had better come through, or I swear, just before the end, I'll break my vow and kill him."

"Not if-"

"-you get there first, eh?"

"Well, I was going to say the universe, but yes, if I can beat you to it I will. There are benefits to being smaller, you know. We're faster."

"Easier to tickle," Esmerelda commented, leaning down to tickle Rebecca unmercifully for a few seconds. Rebecca shrieked in laughter, and Esmerelda laughed at her happiness before they both fell silent. Rebecca wondered at that for a while, wondering how come whenever they laughed, whenever they played, it inevitably ended up in a long silence as they contemplated the end of the universe.

She eventually gave a shrug and returned with Esmerelda to their hiding place within Hogwarts by the secret passages they knew well, figuring eventually that impending doom did that to you.

-----

Harry paused before a door at the end of their winding trek, squinting quickly at the door to make sure it was the right one. Abruptly deciding that yes, it was, Harry pushed the door open and pulled a startled Draco through after him.

It was dim in there, and Draco blinked furiously as his eyes got adjusted to the new light level. He gaped in stupefaction as he realised where they were. "Harry, this is the main hall," Draco realised quickly. He turned his face to Harry's, expression wide. "What are we-"

"Just follow me," Harry replied evasively, leading Draco through a maze of trestle tables and chairs. Abruptly he stopped at the edge of the Ravenclaw table, and stepped up onto one of the chairs. He lay down on the empty table, and looked at Draco. "I said to follow me."

Draco blinked, and copied Harry, lying down on the hard, cool surface. He looked at Harry, who was just looking at the representation of stars rippling on the ceiling as if they were the only thing that mattered, and copied him there too. He could just about manage to see Orion, blinking over the edge, peeping across the top of the door.

"There's a whole universe out there that's never heard of any of us. We're on our own, Draco. We have to solve our own problems. Realise what we're feeling all on our own." 

Draco could picture Harry's expression in his mind's eye, staring out at the field of midnight fire, the points of light reflected in his eyes. "Sometimes it's hard," Draco replied. "Sometimes we just have to make a leap, take a stab at defining what we feel." He felt Harry's cooler fingers take his own.

"I know what I feel."

Harry's words were deeper than usual, and so intense that Draco twisted anyway, expecting to see Harry still looking upwards, and everything inside falling as he realised that Harry was looking at _him_ like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. Draco tried to moisten his lips again, but to no avail. He concentrated on Harry's hand in his own, and stuttered the words out through dry, abused lips. "What do you feel?"

Harry smiled enigmatically and turned to glance briefly at the sky full of stars, before looking back at Draco. The stars blinked back at him, resplendently reflected in Draco's turbulent but hopeful gaze. His voice caught in his throat, but he threw out the words regardless. "I love you." 

Draco's fingers tightened on his own. Draco was looking at him as if he couldn't believe what Harry had said, as if the sky had fallen and burn and shattered around their feet. Maybe they had. They wouldn't have noticed. All Draco could notice was how close Harry seemed to be, how tight their hands were entwined together. He hadn't even realised he had wanted to hear those words so much until his brain realised what had been said, and he exhaled slowly.

Harry pulled his hands away, and Draco refused to let out a whimper of loss as he realised Harry was shifting to move closer. They lay still, bodies pressed together, looking at the universe reflected in each other.

"Promise me something," Harry breathed eventually, moving his face close to Draco's own when the silence threatened to pull them apart and leave them stranded in eternity. "Never leave me."

Draco felt the words rather than hearing them, and nodded. "I promise." He leant forwards, closing that last distance, pressing his mouth against Harry's with such reverence that he could scarcely believe that it was _happening_.

"We really ought to clear up those mats," Harry murmured as the slow kiss dissipated on its own, and Draco's throat tightened for a second until he recognised the mirrored regret open on Harry's face that he was certain was plainly on his own.

Draco nodded slowly, moving his protesting body off the table, and they walked together back down the practise room, hands touching only barely, at the fingertips. It wasn't enough contact, and yet it was too much, all at the same time. Contented, Draco edged a hesitant smile at Harry, only for a full-blown grin of disbelief from Harry who obviously couldn't believe what had happened. Draco wasn't scared by that disbelief. His own soul recognised it, embraced it, yearned for it, as a comrade, as something he had known all his life, as something... as something he would always know.

-----


End file.
